Kairos
by Canimal
Summary: Hermione always felt she knew Severus from somewhere other than Hogwarts. After an explosion in the Potions lab leaves her close to death, her unconscious travels to the past lives she shared with her haunted professor.
1. Accident in the Potions Lab

Chapter One

Roasted herb chicken served on wild rice. It was usually Hermione's favorite, but today it was making her sick to her stomach. She poked the chicken with her fork, watching the juices run down her plate. Moving the rice around with her knife she managed to create an abstract form with her lunch. Peering at it closely, and feeling a little strange as well, she tried to distinguish what she was seeing.

"You going to eat that or just look at it?" Ron Weasley asked, his mouth, of course, filled to the brim with his own lunch.

Hermione snapped back into reality.

"What?" she asked.

"You're looking at your food like it's some sort of bloody crystal ball. Gazing into your rice," Ron snorted, swallowing the remainders of his own chicken.

"Honestly, Ron," she retorted. "Do we have to spend every meal playing 'Guess What Ron is Eating Now'? After seven years I am getting a little tired of it."

Ron looked across the table at the other third of the 'Dream Team'. Harry knew better than to get in the middle of their spats. Seven years at Hogwarts had taught him that lesson one too many times. He turned his gaze back to his food before Ron had a chance to catch his eye.

"Bloody coward," Ron muttered under his breath. "Ow!" Harry kicked him under the table.

"What's wrong with you anyway, Hermione?" Harry asked in what was without a doubt a brave move on his part.

"What?" She had slipped back into another daydream. "Oh, I'm sorry. Just have a lot on my mind."

Harry and Ron looked at each other. _What could she possibly have left to think about?_

"Mione, the N.E.W.T.s are over. We leave Hogwarts next week," Ron reminded her.

"If you are worrying about your scores," Harry added. "Don't."

"It's not that," she sighed, pushing her plate away from her. "I'm just…" She stopped herself from going any further. Although it was not necessary to keep it secret, she was not ready to share the true reason for her anxiety with her two best friends. _Not until he says yes_, she told herself, adamantly.

While he would never consider himself a true 'Seer', no, he scoffed at the very idea, Harry knew when there was something upsetting his friends. Nevertheless, he also knew in the back of his mind that perhaps pushing her for the information was not the way he should go about handling the situation. Obviously Hermione, their own Head Girl, was not in the mood to reveal her mysterious thoughts.

"Hey, Ron," he said, hoping to change the subject. Oliver Wood owled me the other day. It looks like the Cannons might be asking him to switch teams."

"What!?" Ron roared, scaring the third year girl on his left. "After their _dismal _season last year they want to bring in the Puddlemere United Reserve keeper? That makes no sense."

The talk about Quidditch may as well have been spoken in Chinese for all Hermione cared. Either way she understood not a word the two of them were saying. Wronski Feints and what have you were not her specialty.

"Have you been offered a spot on a team yet, Ron?" giggled the third year.

"Well, not yet, Sharon," Ron answered. "But hopefully soon. What's the use in being the Minister of Magic's son if you can't get recruited by a decent Quidditch team?"

"I heard that Montrose was looking for a new keeper. They no doubt have heard of your perfect record, Ron," Sharon giggled again.

Ron's ears began to turn red at the young girl's compliments. He had been the Gryffindor Keeper since his fifth year. There had not been a game yet that he had played in where Gryffindor did not win. Only once, when he was in the hospital wing after Voldemort's final battle, he missed a game. Dean Thomas did his best to keep the perfect record set by Ron, but to no avail. Much to his chagrin, Ron had a faithful set of followers from the younger years of his house. 

"Thank you, Sharon. While Montrose would be lucky to have me on their team…."

"Ugh, please, Ron," Harry said disgustedly. "I would really like to keep down the meal I just ate."

Hermione joined Harry in his sniggers. It was no secret to either of them that their 'Ickle Ronnykins' had a bit of an ego problem. While they both thought that his breakup with Hermione in their fifth year would bring him back down to a reasonable level, the opposite had occurred. Ron only became even more full of himself than he already was. He had spent the last two years breaking the hearts of more than a couple dozen of the Hogwarts girls from all four Houses. 

"Oh, and Ron," Hermione whispered, deciding she could not give up such a perfect opportunity to embarrass her friend in front of the president of his little fan club. "I ran into Millicent before lunch. She said she would be waiting for you in the _usual_ place at the _usual_ time. Now what in the name of Merlin does that mean exactly?"

Harry struggled, unsuccessfully, to hide his snickers. Ron narrowed his eyes to shoot daggers at the brown-haired young woman sitting across from him. Millicent Bulstrode had waited until the end of their fifth year, a mere two hours after the quite-public end of Ron and Hermione's four month long relationship, to profess her own feelings for Ron. She had been relentless in the pursuit of her own Weasley for the last two years. 

"Funny, Hermione. Funny," he hissed.

"I just thought you would like to receive the message," Hermione said as she shot a secret wink at Harry.

The rest of the meal went by without incident. It had only taken Ron a few minutes to get over Hermione's comments. After two years he was getting used to hearing the same things about Millicent over and over. To be perfectly honest, and Ron never would be with his best friends, Millicent was not as bad as they made her out to be. Sure she was a Slytherin and had been quite scary their first few years at Hogwarts, but time will change anyone. 

Ron looked across the Great Hall at the Slytherin table. Seated next to Pansy Parkinson and looking bored almost to tears, was Millicent. _She has grown up to be a very beautiful young woman_, Ron thought secretly to himself. It was true. After their fourth year, Millicent started to grow taller and became much more slender. Her bulky figure had turned into voluptuous curves almost overnight. The boys in their year had grown taller than her, no longer causing her to look like a giant in everyone's presence besides Crabbe and Goyle. No, Ron would never admit that he found anything in Millicent other than complete humiliation and disdain.

"Well, boys," Hermione said as she stood up from the table. "If you will excuse me, I have some important business to attend to."

"Like what?" Harry asked. "The results won't be posted until tomorrow. I am sure the professors are just finishing the marking right now."

_That's what I am hoping_, she thought. It would make her next task much easier if she knew that the professors in the castle were not bogged down with marking.

"Yeah, stay Mione," Ron begged, against his better judgment. "The rest of the seventh years in the House were going to go play a game of Quidditch. We want you to play too."

Hermione snorted.

"What? You want me to play Quidditch with you guys?" she laughed, causing a few Gryffindors around her to laugh as well. "And just what position do you want me to play? Water girl?"

"Come on, Hermione. It'll be fun," Harry promised, shooting her his best smile.

"That smile may work with Ginny Weasley and any number of other girls, but it has no effect on me, Harry Potter. I know you too well for that," she answered. "Honestly, I must be going now."

The two boys knew better than to stop their friend when she had set her mind to something. They reluctantly nodded, and started to finish off their meal.

"If you step foot into the library, Hermione Granger, I will never forgive you," Ron threatened in his teasing manner that they all loved. "Next week we will no longer be Hogwarts students. There is no reason at all why you have to be in there. I am sure the books will understand your absence. They may even be thankful you're leaving."

Hermione tried to seem indignant, but failed miserably. She laughed.

"I am not going to the library. I just have a bit of business to discuss with one of our teachers," she explained.

"_Former_ teachers, Hermione," Harry reminded her. "We never have to go back to their classes again."

"Especially not that greasy git's," Ron added.

Hermione rolled her eyes, excused herself a final time, and headed out the doors of the Great Hall.

"Do try to finish your detention before the term is up!" Snape roared at the second year Hufflepuff boy in his classroom. He had been caught cheating off of his friend's pop quiz that morning. _Uncharacteristic of a Hufflepuff, this boy seems more like a Slytherin to me_, Snape thought as he exited his classroom to his office. 

He lowered himself wearily into the squashy armchair by his fireplace. The markings were all done for the year, _Thank Merlin_. Only a few more days until the students would leave him in the solitude and peace of an empty Hogwarts.

_Knock knock. _

"Damn! Who could that be?" he said to himself. 

He stood up from the chair and crossed to the door in a few quick strides. Throwing open the door he came face to face with Hermione Granger.

"What do you want, Miss Granger?" he demanded.

"I would like to have a few words with you, Professor Snape," she answered calmly, surprising both herself and her former Potions master.

"All right then," His voice was still stern. "A few words and you may leave!"

Hermione looked past the shocked look on her Professor's face as she entered his office. He had not given her an invitation into his sanctuary, but she was not about to have the conversation she wanted to in the corridor of the dungeons. Any one could have walked upon it.

"Well, what is it?" he asked again as he retreated back to his armchair.

"Sir, I have just received a letter from the Ministry of Magic. They wish me to take a position working in the Department of My… I mean they wish to give me a position." She shifted nervously. Only two days into her possible career in the Department of Mysteries and she had almost given away her secret.

"Yes, I seem to remember speaking to the Headmaster about that," He gave her a look that said he knew about the secrecy of her position, and she calmed down considerably. "I only wonder what this has anything to do with me."

"I wish to specialize in potions, sir. In order for this to be accomplished…" She felt her stomach twist and turn into knots.

"You have to first receive a recommendation from your own Potions professor," he finished for her. "Am I right?"  
"Yes, you are."

Snape rose from his chair and exited out through a door behind his desk. Hermione recognized it as the storeroom that she had snuck into a few times in her years at Hogwarts. The noise of ingredients and equipment being shifted around rose to meet her ears.

"Miss Granger!" Snape bellowed from inside. "If you wish to receive a recommendation, you will join me!"

Fearing what might lurk inside, but also fearing what would happen if she did not enter, Hermione hesitantly walked into the storeroom. To her surprise, Snape had already set out a cauldron and was cutting up what looked to be caterpillars.

"You will properly brew for me a health restorative potion. One that will cause even the most dire of conditions to cease," he informed her brusquely.

"All right," she answered in a confident voice that hid her true anxiety. 

"I will not help you," he said. "Working in your department as a Potions specialist will require the making of these kinds of potions, but will mostly deal with those that are less challenging to brew. If you can prove to me that you can successfully brew this one, I believe you will then be able to accomplish any task the Minister might set before you."

"Thank you, sir." She blushed, but tried to hide it when she saw his trademark sneer.

"Don't thank me yet. You have to prove that you can brew it first!" He turned on his heel to exit. "I give you one hour!"

Hermione turned back to the cauldron, and let out a long, deep exhale. She knew it was not going to be easy to get Snape's recommendation. Even before she descended the stone steps into the cool of the dungeons she knew that. 

"I suppose the only thing you can do is make the best damn potion he has ever seen," she cheered herself on. "Now where does he keep nightshade?"

Severus Snape returned to the fireplace. Smirking to himself, he knew for certain he had done the right thing. Yes, he was going to give Hermione her sought after recommendation. He would have done it even without her brewing the potion he asked. Being the cool, manipulative bastard that he had worked hard to become, simply handing out recommendations was impossible.

"She has to feel she deserves this for working, not for just being an insufferable Know-It-All," Severus said quietly.

He lowered himself for the third time into his armchair. After only a minute or two, his curiosity got the better of him. Slowly, cautiously, he turned his gaze to the storeroom. From his angle he had a perfect line of sight to the lovely Miss Granger standing over the cauldron. She had without a doubt grown into an exquisite young woman. Severus had never had respect for those professors who had thought such things about their students, but seeing as the N.E.W.T.s were indeed over, he allowed himself a swift look. Not an obvious look though. He was, after all, almost twenty years her senior. It had always been her mind, her astounding magical ability that had caught his eye before.

Hermione added the last bit of caterpillar to the already bubbling cauldron. This was no doubt a difficult potion to brew, but she was quite certain she would have no trouble with it. As she crossed the room to find the needed bezoar, she could not stop herself from peering out the door into the office of Professor Severus Snape. He was seated in his oversized black armchair with his head bent over a large book. 

She would have by no means admitted it to anyone she knew, but there had always been something about her curmudgeon of a potions professor. Something that made him stand out. From the first day she stepped into the dungeons for her first potions lesson, she got the feeling that she knew him from somewhere. Convinced that they had not met before Hogwarts and never being one to believe in past lives, she dismissed the thought. But today standing so close to him she felt that tug again. There was something about him, something that seven years had yet to reveal.

"If you will kindly return to your potion, Miss Granger," Severus said, his eyes not leaving the book once. "I will only give you one chance."

Embarrassed at being caught staring, Hermione crossed back to the cauldron. When he was certain she could not see him, Severus turned around again to watch her work. Hermione's hands shook as she added nightshade to the fumes. 

"Don't put too much in there, Hermione," Severus said silently to himself, shocking himself by referring to his student by her first name.

"Two leaves of nightshade… done," Hermione dropped the leaves into the whistling cauldron. "Hawthorn blossom…"

Severus watched her actions intently. Determined that she would not make a mistake he was about to bring her attention to the fact that she had picked up orpine instead of hawthorn blossom. The effect of that mistake could be deadly.

"Miss Grang…"

His words had no time to be said. Because her mind was off on another plane, the usually perfect potions student dropped the wrong ingredient to the potion. She had no time at all to run from the explosion. Standing in front of the cauldron gave her a full blast of the deadly potion.

"Hermione!" Severus ran into the storeroom to pull her away. 

He was too late. She was lying on the cold, stone floor only moments from death.

"Hermione!" He pulled her tiny, motionless body into his strong arms. All other thoughts flew out of his head. His one purpose at that moment was to do everything in his power to make sure his precious Hermione was saved. 

_A/N: I hope that didn't go by too quickly or too slowly. This is of course only the beginning. The real action should start in the next few chapters. Please let me know what you think!_


	2. Marc Antony & Cleopatra 1

Chapter Two:

Hermione awoke only a few moments after the explosion. She slowly tried to sit up, but what little strength she had left was not enough to pull herself off the floor.

"What happened?" she asked her professor.

No answer.

"Professor Snape?!" She paid no attention to the amount of pain she was in. The only thought in her mind was what had happened to Severus Snape.

She lifted herself off the ground and ran, well, walked as that was the only amount of movement her condition would allow her, through the door that would lead her to her beloved professor's private office.

"Professor Snape?" She called out as she reached the doorknob. "Severus?"

A sharp pain in her head caused her to pause at the door. She could not remember the door being closed. But for that matter, she could not remember how she ended up on the floor covered in the sickly pea-green potion she was working on.

"Professor Snape, what happened?" she asked, throwing the door open.

Her eyes were not prepared for what she witnessed in the room that should have been the potions master's office. 

"Tell me honestly, Philo, what good could possibly come from this love he professes to have for the _Queen_?" A young, what looked to be a Roman soldier, spat out to his comrade.

_Roman soldier?_ _Where am I?_ Hermione drank in the sight of the room before her. It had been a long time since she had taken any kind of history that was not taught by Professor Binns, but she was almost positive she was standing in an Egyptian palace. The architecture was right to be Egyptian, but it was all too ornate to be anything other than a palace.

"Calm down, Demetrius. I believe it will only be temporary. Our general has never stayed too long in love with any one woman," Philo replied, asserting himself as the calmer, levelheaded of the two. 

"The general has lost all interest in the affairs of his homeland. What good is a triumvirate with only two men who care? He is not fulfilling his proper role." 

"You forget the benefits of remaining here in Egypt, my friend. Take a look at the women," Philo laughed. "We may have beautiful women in Rome, but they are nothing compared to the women here. And don't tell me you haven't noticed. I've caught you enough times looking on the Queen's attendant, Charmian."

Hermione's suspicions were confirmed. _Queen? Egypt? General? Rome? What the hell is going on here?_

"Excuse me," Hermione walked up to the two soldiers. They did not even flinch at the sound of her voice. "Excuse me, could you help me?" No answer. It was obvious they could not hear her. She moved to stand between them, but their conversation continued. Obviously they could not see her either.

_What is going on? Am I in some sort of pensieve? Don't be ridiculous, Hermione. There was no pensieve in the storeroom. There has to be a reasonable explanation for why I am here._

Hermione's thoughts were stopped by the sound of approach on the outside of room's door.

"Ahh, here's comes the general now," Philo announced.

There had to be a word more potent than 'shocked' to describe Hermione's reaction, but at that moment when Cleopatra, Queen of the Nile and Mark Antony, General of the Roman Army entered, any other suitable word slipped out of Hermione's vocabulary.

"I love you more than the stars and the moon in the sky!" exclaimed a rather irritated Mark Antony. 

"Oh, tell me again, sweet love, do you love me more than the River Nile?" Cleopatra giggled in what was most certainly an undignified manner for a queen to behave in.

"How could I love the River Nile any more than you?" Mark Antony said, his voice becoming a bit silkier. "When it was the River Nile that brought me to you?"

Hermione was thankful that the others in the room could not see her at that moment. If they could, they would have seen the unattractive way she stood with her mouth gaping like a fish. Not only was she surprised to wake up and find herself in the time of Egypt and the Roman Empire, but also she was shocked to see the faces of Mark Antony and Cleopatra.

_This has to be some sort of a dream._ Mark Antony and Cleopatra had a striking resemblance to Severus Snape and Hermione Granger. _What is wrong with you? Snap out of it, Hermione! _

Cleopatra stared into the dark depths of the eyes belonging to Mark Antony. When she thought she had lost everything after her beloved Julius Caesar died, she never believed that one day another love would enter her life. Mark Antony, in turn, looked at the beautiful woman standing before him. He had never believed that love was possible to find with any woman. His wife had certainly never shown him any love.

"General, we have received word from Rome," informed Philo.

"Oh," sighed Mark Antony. "I have no interest in hearing any news from Rome. Right now I am in Egypt, and in Egypt I plan to stay."

He leaned over to kiss a giggling Cleopatra. 

"But you must listen, darling. The news might be important," Cleopatra reminded him.

"Ugh, there could be no news that would interest me at this moment."

Demetrius glared at Queen Cleopatra, behind her back of course. He knew that the reason his general wanted to hear nothing about the current state of affairs in Rome was her doing.

"What if the great and wonderful Octavius Caesar has an imperative order for you?" teased Cleopatra. 

"I have no wish to hear it!" He kissed her again. 

"Oh, but what if it is a rebuke from that sniveling little woman Fulvia?" 

"Ugh, speak not of her!"

"Why should I not mention… _your wife_?" she teased him.

"She may have my name and the honor that comes with it, but she does not have my love. That I reserve only for you," He kissed the Queen again, but this time it was with a bit more passion. The two soldiers and the two Queen's attendants turned away to give the lovers a bit of privacy.

"When will you return to Rome?" Cleopatra asked casually. 

"I do not plan to return for a long time, if ever," came the reply.

"Have you not been away from your homeland too long? You should go back to Rome, and visit that woman you claim you don't love."

"Rome is nothing to me, only a place I once lived."

"Is it not your duty to return to Rome?"

"My duty to return to Rome? Sweet lady, the only duty I have is to stay here, in Alexandria, and shower you with my love."

The scene unfolding before Hermione confused her greatly. She had read about Mark Antony and Cleopatra, but certainly had never seen it like this. The fact that she was playing the Queen of the Nile and her surly potions master was playing Mark Antony was enough to make her believe she had gone mad. Somehow seeing the man that had scared her and intimidated her for the past seven years love any woman was disconcerting. She knew, of course, that this had to be a dream, but then she felt that familiar tug at her heart again. _Could this be my past? No, stop it, Hermione. There is no such thing as a past life. You're starting to sound like Trelawny._

"I will not say that I believe everything you say to be entirely true, but I will just have to take your word on it," Cleopatra replied.

"Then let us leave this place and find another where I can _prove_ it to you?" Mark Antony said huskily.

Mark Antony pulled the Egyptian queen into his arms. They exited the room followed by the attendants. Demetrius watched them leave in disgust. 

"That woman has poisoned his mind!" shouted Demetrius.

"I believe you are right," agreed Philo. "He should have more respect for the concerns of the empire he once claimed to love so much."

"Caesar should know about this! He should know how his general behaves!"

Hermione felt the room spin around her, the colors mixing as they swirled together. She had little time to discern what was happening. The room stopped spinning and came back into focus. Only this time, it was a different room. Two women she recognized as the Queen's attendants were seated at a table with an old woman. The new room was dark and mysterious.

"Don't look so nervous, Iras. She is only a soothsayer," whispered one of the attendants.

"Easy for you to say, Charmian. You are used to disturbing people. Take a look at your precious Demetrius," teased Iras.

The old woman shushed the two young women with a high-pitched screech. Hermione wondered why she was watching this old woman telling their fortunes. It made very little sense to her.

"You share the same fortune," the diviner told the attendants. "Yes, your pasts will prove to be fairer than your futures. And…" She closed her eyes. "You shall outlive the queen whom you both serve."

As the young women leaned in to hear more of their future, the door to the room swung open. Queen Cleopatra stormed in, her face full of fury.

"He has changed his mind! I knew he was not sincere!" she shouted, scaring the young women. "He is going to Rome! He told me his _duty _was to stay in Alexandria with me, but now he says he is returning to Rome!"

Cleopatra fell into the arms of Charmian. The attendant did all she could to comfort the poor sobbing queen, but nothing proved to work.

"Send for Enobarbus, Iras!" ordered Cleopatra. "Tell him I wish to see his general before he leaves!" 

Iras bowed quickly to the queen, and exited the room. 

"How can he do this to me, Charmian?! He told me he loves me, but now he is leaving to go back to his wife and his _precious_ Rome!" sobbed the queen. 

They heard the sound of rapid footsteps approaching the room. Cleopatra pulled herself away from her maid. 

"I have no wish to see him now!" she whispered before exiting the room through a side door. 

The door once again swung open. Standing in the front of the group wishing to enter was Mark Antony. 

"Where is she?!" he roared at Charmian. 

"She has decided against seeking your counsel," Charmian answered calmly. 

"Oh she has, has she?!" Antony was furious. He picked up a large vase and threw it to the opposite wall, shattering it to thousands of pieces.

A young Roman solider that Hermione had yet to see entered the room. He stepped over to the place where Mark Antony was standing.

"General, I have urgent news from Rome," the messenger informed the infuriated general.

"I have no wish to hear it!" he bellowed.

"But General, your wife, your brother…"

"What about them?" Antony hissed.

"Your wife Fulvia and your brother Lucius mounted an army to defeat Caesar. They lost their battle."

Mark Antony walked away from the man and positioned himself next to a window. 

"Perhaps… this may not have happened… had you been there to stop it," the messenger hesitantly added.

It was perceptibly a bad judgment on the messenger's part. The Roman general plastered a face on that reminded Hermione much of the face Professor Snape had on when Neville Longbottom melted his numerous cauldrons.

"Why don't you speak openly about my faults?!" shouted Antony. "Tell everyone here exactly how you feel about my actions!"

The general advanced on the young man, intent to do him some damage, but was stopped by the entrance of another messenger.

"General, I have more news from Rome," the second messenger announced.

"What is it?!" snapped Antony.

"Your wife Fulvia is dead, sir," the messenger answered.

Hermione could not discern the look on the general's face. It appeared to consist of relief, sadness, joy, grief, and perhaps a bit of remorse. The general returned to the window. Before he spoke, he took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

"I have long wished for this very news, to know that my wife Fulvia was indeed dead. This has been my desire, but now I only wish she were still alive," he sighed.

Another man entered the room, followed by Iras. _This must be Enobarbus, Antony's follower._

"Ahh, dear general, do not let this news dishearten you. Fulvia's death was a thankful sacrifice that should be praised, not mourned," Enobarbus said as he placed a hand on his general's shoulder. 

"Perhaps it is my idleness and my _damned_ devotion to Cleopatra that has caused such great calamity. Had I been in Rome as I should have been, this could all have ceased to happen. The Sextus Pompeius has waged a war against Rome to take control of the seas. I must break away from Cleopatra and return to Rome," Antony said as he swept out of the room. 

Once again the room started to spin. Hermione found herself a few moments later standing in the room with the Egyptian queen who looked very much like herself. 

"Alexas!" shouted the queen to a young servant standing near her. "I wish to see Mark Antony. Bring him to me." 

The servant exited the room swiftly after a brief bow to the queen. Cleopatra lounged on a sofa, awaiting the entrance of her beloved general. A few minutes later, an angry Mark Antony entered the woman's chambers. 

"How I wish Fulvia never gave you permission to leave Rome!" she shouted dramatically as she pretended to faint. 

Mark Antony rushed to her side. A few gently shakes and she opened her eyes once more. 

"How could I have believed you loved me?!" she shouted, slapping him hard across the face. "You gave a vow that you love me, but you also vowed your wife the same. If you were so willing to break the vows you gave to your wife, what right do I have to believe that you will not do the same to me?" 

"Fulvia is dead, Cleopatra. She and my brother tried to overthrow the Caesar. There is a great battle about to take place in Rome. I must return at once." 

"You mourn very little for your _beloved_ wife! Is that how you will mourn me?!" 

"Of course not, sweet lady. I have told you countless times that I love you, and not once has that been idle." 

"If you loved me so why are you returning to Rome? You said you would stay here with me forever," sobbed the queen. 

Antony took her in his arms. 

"I know what I once said, but now Rome needs me. I cannot leave my homeland when it needs me." 

"Will you return?" 

"I promise." 

The young queen looked into the eyes of her general. She pulled him to her in a fervent kiss. 

"I will return, sweet queen," he promised as he began to exit the room. "No distance will threaten our love." 

*** 

Severus held Hermione in his arms. She was badly wounded, but he could not tell how much. He felt for her pulse. It was weak, but it was there.

"Johnson!" he yelled.

The second year Hufflepuff ran into the storeroom. He saw Hermione lying still in the professor's arms. She looked dead. His fear overtook him, and he began to cry.

"Don't cry, Johnson! That will not help the situation!" Snape roared. "Go to the hospital wing at once! Tell Madam Pomfrey there has been an accident! She will need to prepare for us. I will bring Miss Granger to her."

Scared that the professor might yell again, and also afraid that Hermione might die, the young boy ran as quickly as he could out the classroom and down the corridor to the hospital wing.

"Don't worry, Hermione. I will not let anything happen to you," promised Severus. "No matter what I have to do, you will be all right." 

_A/N: Wow, I was absolutely floored when I saw all of the reviews. I never imagined this story would get that much response! Thank you all so much who reviewed! You made me the happiest girl! Okay, about this chapter. It has been ages since I last studied Egyptian history, so I basically copied Shakespeare's version. I obviously don't own that. :) What other time periods would you like me to try to squeeze in to the story? Maybe if I like your ideas I'll add them. :)_


	3. Marc Antony & Cleopatra 2

Chapter Three

The room Hermione was in continued to swirl around her. She tried to ignore it, but pain coursed through her body.

"What happened?" she asked herself quietly as she tried to discern the details of her newest surroundings. "Where am I? This is definitely not Egypt."

Two men, dressed in the ostentatious garb of the former Roman Empire, stood only feet from Hermione. One of the men stood serenely looking out a window on to the streets of Rome. The other, who was obviously agitated and frantic, paced the room. His face was red with fury, and his frenzied gait unnerved Hermione.

"How can you stand there so calmly, Lepidus, when the future of our empire is in the hands of Mark Antony who is currently too busy with his Egyptian queen to offer any help to our triumvirate?" 

The calmer of the two turned his gaze away from the window. He appeared to be a man who had the patience of an ancient. Nothing seemed to tousle his feathers. 

"Now, now Caesar," he said. 

_Caesar? Octavius Caesar? What kind of dream is this?_ Hermione had no idea why she was standing in a room with two men who lived millennia before she did. Whatever happened to get her here must have been severe. 

"Do not dare try to placate me, Lepidus!" The young Caesar shouted. "Mark Antony has abandoned his responsibilities as a statesman. He may as well have abandoned the better part of his own manhood!" 

"We cannot blame everything on Antony. Perhaps his weaknesses for drinking, fishing and wasting the night in revel are all traits that he inherited, rather than chose. His actions may be out of his immediate control," Lepidus argued in an unruffled manner. 

"Your argument leaves me unconvinced," Caesar replied angrily. "Antony has no business enjoying himself in Egypt when his homeland is in trouble." 

Caesar resigned himself to a couch by an open window. Lepidus resumed his stance next to his own window. 

"If this is some kind of dream," Hermione said aloud to herself. "It certainly feels real. I've never had a more vivid vision." She walked over to the lounging Caesar. "I wonder…" She tried to touch the man before her, but the moment her hand was to meet his shoulder, her hand passed through as if she were nothing but a ghost. 

Her action did not go unnoticed by Caesar. When her hand passed through him, his body shook with a violent chill. It felt to him almost as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been thrown on him. 

"Are you all right, Caesar?" Lepidus asked. 

"Yes… I think. I just had a bit of a chill." 

Hermione crossed the room to be as far away from the two men as she could. Although they could not see or hear her, knowing they could feel her presence scared her a bit. The two… er, three of them were soon joined by a man who appeared to be a messenger. 

"Noble Caesar, I bring news that I fear will not bring any joy," the messenger announced formally to the two men. 

"Bring it forth," Caesar lazily said to the messenger. 

"Pompey's forces continue to gather strength. They are beginning to find support from those allegiances Rome formally held by force," the messenger answered. 

Caesar sighed heavily, in a tone close to defeat. He tried when others were present to never let weakness show, but occasionally he let it show. Lepidus did not move from his window. 

"If Antony was with us, we would have no trouble against Pompey," Caesar lamented. "There is none who is as valiant, no paralleled performance as a soldier." 

Lepidus moved to stand before Caesar. 

"We have but one choice. We must raise an army to defeat Pompey, even if it means we do it without Mark Antony." 

Hermione braced herself for the swirling of the room again. Surprisingly when she opened her eyes again, she found herself standing in the Egyptian palace she had left only a few minutes before. Seated on a large cushion was the Egyptian queen herself. It still unnerved Hermione to see her own face on the woman before her. It felt almost as if she was having a kind of out of body experience. She felt she was watching her own life before her. 

"But that makes no sense, Hermione," she reminded herself. "You are not Cleopatra, Queen of the Nile. You are Hermione Granger, simply a British witch." 

"I miss him so, Charmian!" The Queen with Hermione's face exclaimed. "I wonder what he is doing now at this very moment. Do you suppose he is thinking of me?"

"I would wage my life he was thinking of you at this very moment," Charmian, her maid, answered.

Her answer seemed to satisfy Cleopatra. She leaned back on her cushion, a smile spreading across her face, revealing she was thinking of her love Mark Antony.

"Poor darling," Hermione said as she stood over the Queen. "If she only knew the kind of person a man who looks exactly like her love would turn out to be. The thought of any being that remotely resembles Severus Snape as the love of someone's life is upsetting."

Cleopatra's servant Alexas entered the room, abruptly ending the peace.

"I have a token from Mark Antony," Alexas said, bowing to the Queen.

He handed Cleopatra a single white pearl. She looked up at her servant quizzically, before he continued.

"He kissed the gemstone before he left Egypt, and he ordered that it be returned to his Queen as a token of his love," Alexas explained.

An even wider smile appeared across Cleopatra's face.

"Did he appear cheerless or pleased to leave Egypt?" she asked expectantly.

"Neither," answered Alexas.

"Good, if he appeared cheerless upon leaving Egypt it might have disheartened his troops. But if he seemed pleased to leave Egypt that might have proven that his happiness remained in Egypt, thus causing his troops to lose belief in his resolve."

The Queen rose from her cushion.

"Alexas, prepare twenty messengers. I will write to my beloved every day of his absence," ordered Cleopatra. "If I have to, I will unpeople Egypt by turning all its inhabitants in to messengers."

Hermione steadied herself again for the change of scenery. _There has to be an easier way._ When she had the courage to open her eyes again, she found herself back in Rome; in the same room she had left what seemed only moments before.

Caesar was absent from the room. Lepidus, however, was still standing by his familiar window. This time a man Hermione recognized as Enobarbus, Antony's follower, joined him. The two men appeared to be having a heated conversation.

"You would be wise to remind your General Mark Antony to speak to Caesar in a soft tone," Lepidus said to the man with a warning tone.

"My General will speak as plainly and honestly as any great man should," Enobarbus retorted.

"Antony is known for his temper," Lepidus continued. "I will not have him upsetting Caesar. Kindly remind him to keep a civil tongue."

"I fear that I have no control over what my General says or does."

Hermione looked towards the door where Octavius Caesar and his attendants entered. Her heart leapt when she saw the rugged Mark Antony enter a few moments later. _Whoa, my heart leapt? What is wrong with you, Hermione? This man looks like your vicious Potions Master. Remember that before you begin to develop a crush on him._

"Ahh, Mark Antony!" Caesar greeted the surly general formally. "Please, have a seat."

Mark Antony glared at the triumvir in front of him. _His countenance is exactly like Professor Snape's_, Hermione could not help thinking.

The gruff general seated himself across from Caesar and Lepidus. He eyed each one suspiciously. 

"Let us not waste any more time with unnecessary politeness," Antony spat. "It is no secret to me exactly why you want me here. So, let's discuss my brother and my late wife."

"Well, umm, Antony," Lepidus began hesitantly. Caesar cut him off.

"Your wife Fulvia and your brother Lucius raised an army against us. They raged a war against us," Caesar began. "Your brother says it was by your will that they did this."

"You misunderstand," Antony retorted. "My brother never asked me to join in his plight. That was entirely his doing, his and Fulvia's."

Caesar remained calm despite Antony's harsh glares and snarls.

"Why then did you not answer any of our messages while in Alexandria? You dismissed the messengers sent forth to you."

"I was busy with my own business while in Alexandria," he snapped.

This comment seemed to send Caesar over the edge. He lost his composure, and nearly threw himself on the general.

"You have broken your oath to the Empire!"

"Calm down, Caesar," Lepidus implored, pulling the man forcefully to his seat.

"No, Lepidus, let him speak," Antony replied in a cool voice. "Explain to me, Caesar, just how I managed to break my oath to the Empire."

"You refused to give military aid to the other triumvirs," Caesar explained, regaining a bit of his lost composure.

"Refused? No, only neglected to give aid. It was only after the battle took place that I heard of Fulvia and Lucius' actions," Antony continued. "Truth is, Fulvia made war here to have me return to Rome from Egypt. That was her intention, and it appears that despite her death, her wish was granted!"

A soldier that Hermione had yet to hear speak stood up to face the men.

"Perhaps it would be in the best interest of everyone if we all placed aside our quarrels for the moment and remembered the cooperation of all is needed to face our current crisis," the man said.

"Quite right, Maecenas," Lepidus agreed.

"If you both work to get along for the moment, once all our troubles with Pompey are over, your troubles may be as well. Or at least then the two of you will have time to forgive each other when your Empire is not in trouble," Enobarbus suggested.

"You are nothing but a soldier!" Antony yelled. "Speak no more!"

"I forget, I should be silent so the truth is not said," Enobarbus replied sardonically.

"Speak no more! You wrong this presence!"

Hermione had to keep herself from giggling at the scene unfurling before her. Mark Antony not only looked like her professor, he acted like him exactly. This reminded her greatly of the time when Dumbledore had asked Severus and Sirius Black to put aside their differences to work for the good of Order before Voldemort was defeated. In this lifetime it appeared that Caesar was Mark Antony's Sirius Black. Lepidus was most like Remus Lupin, but not close enough for her to make that comparison. 

"It is not that I dislike what he has to say," Caesar announced. "I dislike his manner in speaking it. We both know that our friendship will be impossible to repair. Believe me when I say if there was a way that we could hold true our alliance, I would move Heaven and Earth to see it done."

"May I make a suggestion, Caesar?" an attendant of Caesar asked.

"Go ahead, Agrippa."

"You have a sister, Caesar, the admired Octavia. Mark Antony is now a widower," Agrippa began.

"Forget it, Agrippa. If Cleopatra were to hear you speak of her beloved Mark Antony marrying another…" Caesar said acerbically.

"He is correct. I am not married. I wish to hear what Agrippa has to say," Antony interjected.

"To secure your alliance, to make both of you brothers, and to ensure both of your hearts are in the same place, give Octavia to Antony as his wife. She is both beautiful and virtuous. This marriage would cause all jealousies that now seem great, and great fears, to become nothing. Her love for both of you would draw you two together, causing a bond that could not break," Agrippa explained. "Forgive me. This is not an extemporaneous plan. I have been thinking about this for quite some time."

Antony glared at Caesar, but it was obvious that he was thinking this plan through. While Hermione knew the story of Antony and Cleopatra, she had read the Shakespearean version on more than one occasion, she could not help but wish that Antony would say no to this proposal. Watching the actual players in this drama made her want Antony to be faithful to Cleopatra.

"What do you say, Caesar?" Antony asked.

"I will not answer until I hear how Antony feels."

"What would happen if I said 'yes' to Agrippa's plan?"  
"I would offer both the power of Caesar and Octavia to see it done."

"Then I entreat all in this room to be witnesses when I say that I will not dream of impeding this process," Antony said as he extended his hand to Caesar. "Let me have your hand, Caesar, so from this moment we will be as brothers, and we will work together for the Empire as brothers."

Caesar took Antony's hand.

"I give you my sister, Antony, whom no brother could love as dearly. She will join our kingdoms and our hearts."

"Happily, amen!" exclaimed Lepidus.

"We will march together to Mount Misenum to defeat Pompey," Caesar said as he, Antony and Lepidus exited the room. Only Enobarbus and Agrippa remained behind. Well, Hermione was there as well, but the two men had no clue as to her presence.

"Tell me about this Cleopatra," Agrippa said. "Will she cause our Empire any more trouble? Especially considering Antony's impending marriage?"

"She is… unlike any other woman. Where most women satisfy a man, she only causes more _hunger_, if you know what I mean," Agrippa understood, so Enobarbus continued. "I fear, however, that despite his marriage to Octavia, Antony will never leave his beloved Cleopatra."

***

Severus cradled the unconscious Hermione in his arms as he ascended the stairs to the main floor. She was so small, so light, he felt he was carrying a child. _Hermione was no child_, he reminded himself. 

"Just a few more minutes and I'll have you in the hospital wing," Severus whispered to the young lady in his arms. He was not sure if she could hear him speak. It only made him feel better.

He had never felt the amount of panic he was feeling at that moment. Even in his years as a Death Eater. Nothing could have prepared him for the fear that this beautiful woman could die in his arms.

"Just a little bit longer, Hermione. Hold on for a little bit longer." 

_A/N: Wow, thank everyone who reviewed! I am overwhelmed by your responses! :) I am a happy girl now._

_Okay, just to let you all know... this is my take on what happened with Mark Antony and Cleopatra.. with a bit of help from Shakespeare's version. This is not... I repeat not, historically accurate! :) I mean, come on, Hermione and Severus as an Egyptian Queen and a Roman General? Obviously there will be some changes made to fit the story. :) So, just enjoy the version I've written.. don't worry about history_

_So tell me... how am I doing? :) I love to hear your comments. And again... if any of you have a suggestion for a possible time period you would like me to include, please feel free to leave it in your review! _


	4. Severus' Stresses

A/N: Before I continue with this next chapter I wanted to thank everyone who has read and reviewed my fic. Some questions have arisen as to why I am writing more about the history in the story (Mark Antony, Cleopatra, etc.) instead of writing about the real Hermione and Severus. It's all a part of my evil plan for the rest of this story. :) I know that I have written more of a history lesson than a story, but please bear with me. There is a purpose. :)

_With that said, I am giving you all a treat… A complete chapter devoted to Severus. Now don't say I am not giving you enough Severus and Hermione action. :) _

Chapter Four:

The door to the Hospital Wing loomed before Severus as he desperately rushed down the corridor. It began to feel as if the closer he got to the door, the longer the corridor would become. He hastened his gait, lengthened his stride. Time was of the essence. The mistake his former potions student made was a potentially fatal one.

Madam Pomfrey was ready for him when he finally entered the wing. Johnson, the terrified Hufflepuff, was trying his hardest to explain to the kindly Headmaster just what had transpired in the dungeons. He had to stop frequently to catch his breath; his tears were catching in his throat. Albus Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on the sobbing second year.

"I… don't… know… what happened… in the store…room," Johnson bawled. "But then there was… a big explosion… Pro…Professor Snape yelled… I ran in there and… Hermione Granger… was…." He could not finish the sentence. Dumbledore looked grave.

"Poppy, do you understand what has happened?" Dumbledore asked the frenzied mediwitch.

"Not a bit, Albus," she admitted. "Poor Mr. Johnson was not able to finish the story for me when you came in. All I know is there was an explosion in the dungeons involving Severus and Miss Granger."

Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey's speculations were confirmed when Severus threw open the door. Hermione lay limp in his strong arms.

"Severus, what has happened?!" Madam Pomfrey guided the Potions master to an empty bed in the ward.

"Herm… Miss Granger was working on a health restorative potion per my request," Severus explained as he gently laid Hermione on the bed. Madam Pomfrey wasted no time checking the vitals of the young woman. "She added orpine when she should have added hawthorn blossom. I tried to warn her, but before I had a chance, the cauldron exploded."

Madam Pomfrey gasped. Dumbledore shook his head. Poor Mr. Johnson left the ward quickly to return to his common room.

"What was she doing brewing such a difficult potion, Severus?!" Madam Pomfrey demanded. "You of all people should know the consequences of a simple mistake could cost someone's life!"

"That's why I brought Miss Granger here to you, Poppy! To save her life!" retorted Severus in a vicious tone.

"Severus, Poppy, an argument will not aid this matter," Dumbledore calmly reminded his hotheaded staff members. "We must all work together to ensure Miss Granger makes a full recovery."

Severus and Poppy eyed each other suspiciously, but finally conceded to the Headmaster's wishes.

"What can Severus and I do to help, Poppy?" Dumbledore asked, putting his hand on the fuming Professor.

"She appears to have taken the full force of the explosion, Albus," Madam Pomfrey answered gravely. "I will do all that I can, but we may have to bring in someone from St. Mungo's."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. He knew that the condition his almost-former student was in had to be severe if Poppy was asking for outside help. She had never allowed a doctor from St. Mungo's to enter her Hospital Ward before.

"I will contact St. Mungo's and have them send over a few of their best doctors," Dumbledore said as he started to leave the ward. "I trust that the two of you will be able to cooperate in my absence. Remember what Miss Granger needs most right now is help."  
Severus moved to the right side of Hermione's bed. She had not moved an inch since he laid her down minutes earlier. The panic that he had felt when he watched the cauldron blow up and then when he raced down the corridors with Hermione in his arms was nothing compared to the panic he was feeling watching her lie there still.

"What can I do, Poppy?" Severus asked in little above a whisper.

"She needs burn ointment applied to the parts of her skin the potion touched. If you would go retrieve some from my storage closet, I will get Miss Granger out of her soaked clothing," Poppy replied, in a much kinder tone.

He wasted not even a moment. Before Poppy had a chance to pull the curtained screens around Hermione's bed, Severus was inside the hospital storage closet. The bottles of potions and ointments were all too familiar to him. He brewed most of the potions and had on many occasions required the application of the burn and pain ointments on himself. 

Voldemort continued to gain leverage in the wizarding world despite the valiant efforts of the Order. It was a miracle that even after all of these years Voldemort had not found out that Severus was working as a double agent. The Dark Mark on his armed summoned him to the Dark Lord's inner circle several times a month. He would frequently return from these 'meetings' requiring medical attention. Voldemort's own special way of asserting his power over his followers.

"How badly burned is she?" Severus asked, careful to avert his eyes from the scantily clad young woman in front of him.

"Badly, but thank goodness not nearly as badly as I feared," answered Madam Pomfrey brusquely, snatching the ointment from Severus' hand.

"Will she be all right?" he asked fervently, but attempting to hide the desperation from his voice.

"I do not know that, Severus!" Madam Pomfrey replied, losing her temper. "I thought I made myself perfectly clear when the Headmaster was in here moments ago!"

Severus' first instinct was to curse the woman in front of him to eternity. Thankfully, the nervous shrieks of Minerva McGonagall stopped him in his tracks.

"I was only hoping that Mr. Johnson was exaggerating when I ran into him in the hall!" Professor McGonagall crossed swiftly to Hermione's bedside. "What happened to Miss Granger, Poppy?"

"She was attempting to brew a special health restorative potion. I know that she is a usually good student, but this potion was quite difficult. Instead of adding hawthorn blossom to the concoction, she added orpine," Madam Pomfrey explained, her voice dripping with acid.

"Oh, dear! Why on Earth was she attempting to brew something like that anyway?"

"Maybe you should direct that question to the one who asked her to do it," Madam Pomfrey said coolly, nodding her head to indicate Severus Snape.

Minerva McGonagall shot Severus a glare that rivaled even one of his.

"Were you simply trying to kill one of my students or was there a reason behind your insanity?!" she yelled.

"Miss Granger asked for my recommendation for her position in the Ministry of Magic. I was not just going to give it to her without her proving to me she deserved it!" Severus defended himself.

"You have been her professor for seven years, Severus! Surely you knew she was worthy of your _precious_ recommendation?" Minerva spat back.

"Working at the Ministry of Magic would bring her in to contact with many difficult and potent spells. If she could handle this restorative potion that I assumed would be quite simple for her, then she would have proven to me that she could handle any other potion!"

Their argument was brought to an abrupt end by the reentry of Albus Dumbledore. Two wizards, dressed in St. Mungo's robes, entered a few steps behind him.

"May I speak with you in private, Severus?" Albus kindly asked. "While these two gentlemen check on Miss Granger?"

Severus followed Dumbledore to the corridor outside of the Hospital Ward. Minerva shot him a triumphant look, but he quickly glared back. Her smile was wiped off her face.

"Would you like to explain to me just why Miss Granger was brewing that particular potion, Severus?" Dumbledore asked gently.

Severus let out a long, frustrated sigh. Surely the Headmaster had heard the screams from the Hospital Ward while he was walking through the corridors?

"Miss Granger asked me to give her a recommendation…"

"Ahh, that is what I assumed," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at the young wizard in front of him. "And Miss Granger was not completely focused on her task at hand?"

He was not certain, but Severus felt that Dumbledore was implying something. The aged Headmaster looked at him knowingly and smiled.

"If you are asking…" Severus felt he was going to choke on his tongue. "If you are asking whether _I_ was _occupying_ Miss Granger, I am afraid I will have to disappoint you. She was in my store room, and I was seated by the fireplace in my office."

The Headmaster's unnerving smile did not leave his kindly, old face.

"But you said you saw her aid the wrong ingredient, and had no time to warn her. Surely you had to have been _watching_ her to notice this?"

Severus felt he was in the middle of an inquisition. Something in his mentor's voice made him feel like he was a dirty, old man who was caught ogling a young girl.

"I would occasionally check on her progress, Headmaster," he answered, his throat seeming to close on him. "I wanted to be sure she was brewing the potion correctly."

"Ahh, I see," The smile and the twinkling eyes were still there. "Please, Severus. Return to the dungeons and take note as to exactly what ingredients Miss Granger added to her potion. This will aid the doctors from St. Mungo's greatly."

"Yes, Headmaster."

Severus turned on his heel to the leave the Headmaster's presence as rapidly as he could. He had almost made it to the end of the corridor when…

"And Severus…"

"Yes, Headmaster?" He tried to hide the frustration and irritation from his voice, but to no avail.

"When you return I will be sure that Minerva has left the ward and I will inform Poppy that you will be watching over Miss Granger until she wakes up."

"Headmaster?" _What is Albus saying?_

"I daresay you will want to be there when Miss Granger wakes up."

Dumbledore turned to walk back into the Hospital Ward, leaving the Potions master frozen to his spot. He was utterly confused. Usually conversations with the Headmaster left him a little confused, but this was ridiculous! Albus made it sound like Hermione was going to have something important to tell him when she woke up. What on Earth could an unconscious woman possibly have to say? 

Little did Severus know, as he entered the cool of the dungeons, that at that moment, Hermione Granger was not in Hogwarts. Her body may have been lying under the crisp, white hospital sheets. Her body may be under observation by two of the best doctors St. Mungo's had ever employed, but Hermione was not. 

She was on a journey that he would know nothing about until she opened her eyes. She was traveling back in time to witness the numerous times she had tried to form a life with the man that was now a professor at Hogwarts. Each time before had resulted in a few blessed moments of joy, followed by agonizing pain. 

Only Dumbledore seemed to understand the importance of her journey. She was learning from hers and Severus' past mistakes. She was learning all that she could, so when the time was right, this lifetime would prove to be the one they had been waiting for since the beginning of existence.


	5. Marc Antony & Cleopatra 3

Chapter Five

To steady herself during the constant changing of the space she was in, Hermione held on to the back of a chair with an almost death-like grip. Her body was vaguely aware of the pain she endured after the explosion in the Potions storeroom. The constant whirling of her surroundings was beginning to take its toll on her already weak body.

"When I wake up, I need to research a Dreamless Sleep potion," she whispered to herself. "Ohhh, not again."

The room swirled to reveal another room set in traditional Roman fashion. Three main figures dominated the room. Hermione recognized the two men, Mark Antony and Octavius Caesar, at once. The other was a woman, several years older than Hermione. She was crying. Both men looked to be trying to cheer her up.

"Now, now, dear Octavia," Caesar held out a handkerchief to the sobbing woman. "Nothing was ever solved by crying."

_So this was Octavia?_ Although she was not certain why exactly, Hermione felt hurt when looking upon this woman. She felt a sense of betrayal. _Don't be absurd, Hermione. You saw yourself as Cleopatra in love with Mark Antony. That is the only reason you are having these ridiculous thoughts._

She physically shook her head to try to snap herself out of her thoughts. There was nothing so special about Octavia that she should feel jealous. She was a small woman, but she could be called beautiful, at least to some extent. Everything about the woman screamed submissive to Hermione. This woman was the polar opposite of Cleopatra.

"When am I going to wake up?" Hermione sighed. "This has gone on for far too long."

What happened next both shocked and disgusted Hermione. Sev… er, Mark Antony wrapped his muscular arms around the waist of his new wife. He whispered something that neither Hermione or Caesar could hear, and moved his lips to brush across hers.

"Oh, yeah, you were _real_ faithful to Cleopatra there, Antony," Hermione said disgustedly. "What was it you said to her before you left? 'No distance will threaten our love.' You make me sick. Honestly… _men_." She turned her back to the newly married couple, but after a few moments, her curiosity got the better of her.

"The world and the position I hold here in Rome will sometimes force me to be away from you," Antony said soothingly to his new wife.

"I shall spend every moment you are away on my knees in prayer to the gods for your safe return," Octavia replied in a voice sweeter and sicklier than honey. Mark Antony kissed her fervently causing Hermione to turn away from the sight.

"Good bye, my beautiful Octavia," Antony crooned. "Do not listen to any reports you may hear of my conduct away from Rome. I give my oath that I will be faithful only to you."

Hermione snorted.

"Yeah, that's exactly what he said to Cleopatra! If you believe him, Octavia, you are even more naïve than I thought you were."

Mark Antony kissed his wife once more before she left the room with her brother. Antony crossed to stand next to an open window. He let out a deep breath and shook his head.

"What have you gotten yourself into?" he whispered to himself.

His solitude was interrupted by the entrance of a soothsayer, or fortune-teller. The elderly man said nothing as he approached the general.

"Tell me," Antony said, breaking the silence. "Do you wish you were back in Egypt?"

"I wish I had never left Egypt," the soothsayer answered.

"Can you tell me the reason for your answer?"

"I can see the reason in my mind, sir, but I do not have the words to utter it."

Both Hermione and Mark Antony chuckled at the same time. Obviously they both felt the same way about so-called 'seers'.

"Tell me… whose fortune will rise higher? Mine or Caesar's?"

The soothsayer scratched his head to contemplate the question properly.

"Caesar's…" he answered. "That is why you should not remain by his side, Antony!"

Antony resumed his place by the window, taking deep breaths and exhaling them quietly.

"When you are away from Caesar, you are courageous, noble, and unmatchable. With Caesar, you are not," the man continued. "Stay as far away from Caesar as you can!"

"Say no more about this," Antony dismissed the soothsayer with a single hand motion.

"I will say all that I must to you, but I will mention this to no one else!" The man, though elderly and an inferior, was relentless. "If you try to fight Caesar, you will most assuredly lose."

"Leave!" Antony barked at the man. "And tell Ventidius I wish to speak with him."

The soothsayer quickly exited the room, apparently afraid of the general's wrath.

"We will leave to invade Parthia tonight," Antony said just as the room began to spin again.

Hermione found herself back in Egypt, back in the palace with a Queen that looked exactly like her. Cleopatra was joined by her maid Charmian and a man Hermione had not yet seen.

"Come, let us play a game," Cleopatra exclaimed. "It will keep my mind off my love."

A messenger entered the room abruptly. Hermione and Cleopatra both looked at his face as he entered the room. They each noticed he seemed reluctant to share his news.

"Is it my love?!" Cleopatra shrieked. "He's dead, isn't he?" She threw herself into Charmian's arms. She cried for a few moments, and then turned her face to the messenger. "If you tell me that Antony is dead, I will kill _you_!"

"No, my Queen! Antony is alive and well," he answered hastily. "But… he has taken Octavia, sister of Caesar, as his new wife."

Cleopatra leapt at the messenger and hit him with all the force she had in her frame. He staggered backwards.

"I am very sorry, but it is my duty to speak the truth," the messenger said, clutching his reddened cheek.

Cleopatra burst into another round of dramatic tears.

"Though I am Queen, I had no right to strike," she said to the messenger. "It is beneath me to behave so viciously. The thought of my beloved married to another brought me to this violence!"

Charmian tried to comfort her crying queen.

"Messenger, go to Rome now. Find this Octavia. Tell me what she looks like, how old she is. Yes, I even want to know what color her hair is!" Cleopatra ordered the messenger who quickly exited the room.

The room darkened for a moment. Once Hermione could see the occupants of the room, she saw a scene much similar to the one she just witnessed. The only reason she could tell that it was even another day was because of the clothing they all wore.

"Tell me, Messenger," Cleopatra ordered. "What is _Octavia_ like?"

He cleared his throat nervously before he began.

"Is she as tall as me?" Cleopatra barked.

"No, madam, she is not."

"How old do you suppose she was?"

"She is a widow, Madam. I would put her age at around thirty."

"Was her face long or round?"

"Round, much too round."

"What color was her hair?"

"Brown, madam."

Cleopatra looked as if she would explode with happiness at the messenger's news. Surely her beloved would not be interested in a woman such as Octavia. She certainly had no competition with the Roman woman.

"Here is some gold for your trouble," she said, thrusting a small bag at the man before he left. "Charmian, I do feel guilty for hitting the way I did when he was here last. The thought of another woman touching my love sickens me."

Mark Antony joined his Queen in the next scene that unfurled before Hermione's eyes. He was angry, but Cleopatra did all she could to comfort him.

"I will be there with you!" Cleopatra said, and then pulled her beloved into a deep kiss.

"You will be a distraction to the general," Enobarbus said, frustrated. "He does not need you fighting alongside him."

Antony crossed the room to speak with his general, Canidius.

"We will meet Caesar on the sea," Antony said forcefully.

Both Enobarbus and Canidius objected to this news.

"But, General," Enobarbus began. "We are unmatched on land, but Caesar is stronger on the seas."

"His naval fleet is much stronger," added Canidius.

Mark Antony turned away from his men, obviously not listening to their objections.

"My fleet of sixty ships will win the battle!" Cleopatra declared.

"I will prepare the navy," Antony said, sweeping out of the room. Cleopatra quickly followed.

Hermione had to take a seat on the floor and close her eyes. The room spun too quickly and too often for her to stand. When she finally felt calm enough to reopen her eyes and assess her surroundings, she was greeted with the sight of Enobarbus and Charmian talking.

"What happened during the battle?" Charmian asked anxiously.

Enobarbus let out a weary, frustrated sigh.

"The battle was Antony's. He was winning… but then without warning, Cleopatra's ship fled without warning. Antony ordered his ship to follow…"

Charmian placed a comforting hand on the soldier's shoulder, willing him to continue the tale.

"The fleet was thrown in to confusion. Caesar took the victory."

The Queen's maid gasped.

"Antony's soldiers were sickened by the outcome. Canidius took his army over to Caesar's side. Six other of Antony's royal allies had joined Caesar's side."

A very angry Mark Antony entered the room. He picked up large piece of pottery and threw it against the wall. Charmian slipped quietly out of the room.

"Leave me, Enobarbus!" Antony shouted. "You should no longer have to serve in my insufferable company any longer!"

"General…"

"No! I do not deserve your company! Abandon me as I abandoned my nobler self!"

Cleopatra burst through the door, running to her lover.

"Oh! My love!" She tried to put her arms around him, but he rejected her embrace.

"I once was a noble general, but now!" he lamented. "Now I let my heart lead me in battle!"

"Oh, my lord, do not blame yourself for what was most certainly my fault!" Cleopatra begged, throwing her arms around him again. "I never believed that you would follow my sails!"

"Surely you know by now my love, that wherever your heart goes, my heart goes as well."

"Forgive me!"

"Now I must seek Caesar's forgiveness." He turned to look upon the tear-streaked face of the queen. "Please do not cry, love. I cannot bear the sight of your sorrow."

He pulled her to him in a deep, ardent kiss.

A few moments later found Antony preparing for yet another battle. As he pulled on his armor, Cleopatra insisted on helping him. He put his arms around his queen and kissed her.

"I must leave you now, but give you this to remember while I am gone," He kissed her again. "Come." He motioned the soldiers in the room to follow him out.

Cleopatra laid herself on a couch to await the return of Mark Antony. 

***

"…caterpillar…nightshade…orpine," Severus said as he scribbled the words down on parchment. "That is all, I believe."

He surveyed the damage to his storeroom once again. The cauldron was in pieces, but that was easily replaced. Vials of potions and potion ingredients littered the floor. A thick layer of broken glass covered every inch of the floor and counter space. Blood that was undisputedly Hermione's lay still in a puddle in the middle of the room. This was all easily fixed, he knew. A wave of his wand and the room returned to its former state. _If only I could do that to Hermione_.

"What did Albus mean when he said I would want to be there when she awoke?" This was not the first time in the last hour he spent in the dungeons that he considered this question. "Only one way to find out."  
He grasped the parchment firmly in his hand, and began the trek back to the Hospital Ward. If he was supposed to be at Hermione's bedside when she came back in to consciousness, he was going to be damned before he let anyone get in his way. 

_A/N: This chapter was much shorter than I hoped it would be, but I did my best. :) For those of you who know the story of Mark Antony and Cleopatra, you probably realize this version is coming close to an end, but don't worry! There is plenty of the story left to go! :)_

_btw: I just started a new Severus story _Almost Goodbye_. If you like my writing feel free to check it out and let me know what you think. :)_


	6. Marc Antony & Cleopatra 4

Chapter Six:

The relative quiet of the Egyptian palace was broken suddenly by loud, piercing screams. Hermione rushed to the entrance of the room to see what had caused such a commotion. Before she was able to ascertain what was happening in the corridors, a distraught Cleopatra thrust herself into the room. Not knowing that Hermione was indeed standing where she was, Cleopatra rushed through her as if she was nothing but a ghost. The feeling unnerved Hermione, but the Queen was too upset to even stop.

"Help me!" screamed Cleopatra, as she threw herself into the arms of her maid, Charmian.

"What is it, my Queen?" Iras frantically asked. "What has happened?"

"It's… it's my love!" She burst into tears. "He wishes me dead!"

"I don't understand…" Charmian said as she tried to comfort her queen.

Cleopatra jumped from the arms of her maid, her eyes full of both fury and pain.

"He believes I betrayed him! He threatened to kill me!"

"Then we must hide you in the monument!" Charmian suggested empathically. "Yes, we'll take you to the monument and send word to Antony that you are dead!"

"Yes! To the monument! Mardian," she said to one of her servants. "Find Antony… tell him that I have murdered myself… say that the last word to escape from my lips was his name. Please Mardian, make it sound dreadfully pitiful. Then come and tell me how he takes the news of my death."

"Yes, my Queen," Mardian swiftly fled the room.

"Come… to the monument!" Cleopatra ran from the room, her maids following at her heels.

Hermione had only to blink before she saw the scene before her change once more. This time she was in the room with Antony and his soldier Eros. Antony had the same fierce determination she had witnessed countless times on the face of her Potions professor. It was upsetting seeing this man who so resembled Severus Snape with a murderous glint in his eyes. 

"Did Professor Snape ever look like that when he was on a raid?" she could not stop herself from verbalizing the hidden thoughts of her mind.

Mark Antony picked up a large sword to place in the sheath on his belt. Eros, the soldier, eyed him uncomfortably. He knew that his general was capable of horrific acts of viciousness. It was how he managed to assert himself in the Roman army. One had to be on the verge of in not already completely evil.

"Eros, my good soldier, you have been at my side through it all. I made these wars we fought in for Egypt. I thought I had the love of its queen for she had mine…" Antony's furious voice began to quiet when he spoke of the queen. "She betrayed me, betrayed our love… but I will not let her get away with it!"

Mardian, the eunuch whom Cleopatra sent to bear the bad news of her 'death', entered the room with the two Romans. Antony scowled when he saw Mardian.

"You serve a vile woman!" hissed Antony, succeeding to scare the eunuch partially. "She has robbed me of everything… my army and my love. I thought she felt the same as I, but apparently I was mistaken."

"No, Antony… my mistress did love you. You were everything to her," corrected Mardian.

"Leave me! She betrayed me, and I will make certain she dies the death she deserves!"

"A person can only die one death. She spoke of your name as she lay dying. The last word that came across her lips was a whispered 'Antony'!" cried Mardian. He had been asked to make the news of Cleopatra's death appear real, so he wasted no time crying for his slain mistress.

Hermione watched with rapt interest for Antony's reaction. It took him a few moments to comprehend what Mardian had just shared with him. The anger in his eyes was replaced with an obvious look of sorrow. He dropped his hand, the hand that was holding on to the top of his sword, to his side. Slowly he turned to face the man who had brought such a terrible report.

"Cleopatra… is dead?" Antony asked in little above a whisper.

"Yes, she murdered herself after hearing you wished her dead. She only did herself what she knew you would do eventually."

Antony's face fell.

"Drop your sword, Eros," he instructed. "Thank you for this… information. Please leave me in peace now."

Mardian exited the room as quickly as he entered. Antony took a look around the room, spotted a vase, and hurled it at the nearest wall. The vase shattered in to hundreds of pieces, a picture of what was happening to the general's own heart.

"Oh, Cleopatra," whispered the general as he dropped to his knees. "What have I done?"

Eros and Hermione were both unsure whether they should leave the poor man alone or not. Knowing what was going to happen next, Hermione desperately wished she could spare the unnecessary pain that was to ensue. She wished she could tell Mark Antony exactly what was going to happen. _But_, she reminded herself, _even if I could tell him, I shouldn't. This would without a doubt change the course of history. _

"I am so sorry, my love," Antony sighed. "Please forgive my foolishness. Soon… soon I will meet you again in the after life."

Antony struggled to rise from his place on the floor. Resolutely he crossed to stand before his soldier.

"You once promised me, Eros," he began. "That if ever I was conquered and about to face horror and disgrace, you would kill me when I asked."

Eros eyes widened when he realized what his general was about to ask him to do.

"I ask you now, Eros… kill me. Save me from disgrace and give me the opportunity to be with my queen once more."

"Oh, gods, prevent me from doing this!" Eros looked heavenwards. "How can I kill you whom others have tried countless times and failed?"

"Would you rather see me in Rome bowing towards Caesar… a common criminal?!"

"No, I would not."

"Then you must kill me! Kill me with the sword that has brought so much honor to Rome!"

"Please, general, pardon me from this act!"

"When I freed you, I made you promise me that you would kill me if I asked. Kill me now!"

"Then… if I must kill you, please look away. I do not wish to see your face as I strike."

Antony turned his face away from his soldier. Eros, visibly sweating, pulled his own sword from his sheath. 

"I have my sword," Eros said to the general.

"Then waste no more time. Kill me now."

"Farewell, general. Shall I do it now?"

"Now."

Eros held out his sword. As he raised it to strike his general, he stopped. He turned the tip of the blade to face himself, and he fell on it.

"Eros!" Antony turned when he heard the noise. "What have you done?"

"Spared myself from witnessing the death of the great Mark Antony."

Eros took his last breath.

"You were a nobler man than I am, Eros," Antony pulled his own sword out. "In life you were my soldier, in death you are my teacher. You showed me what I must do."

Hermione held in a cry when she saw Antony fall on his own sword. She knew the story, but could not help feeling new emotions when seeing it first-hand.

"Why am I not dead?" cried Antony. "Guards!"

Three Roman guards entered the room to see the carnage. They gasped at the sight of their general.

"I did not kill myself as I planned," explained Antony. "Friends, finish me off. Let the one that loves me, kill me."

"I will not kill you, sir," the first guard said.

"Nor will I."

"None of us will kill you," the third guard said.

A man entered the room. If Hermione remembered Shakespeare's version of the story correctly, he would be Diomedes, servant of Cleopatra.

"Where is Antony?" Diomedes demanded of the guards.

"Antony is there."

"Diomedes," Antony gasped for air. "Kill me. Finish the job I started and these men will not end."

"I cannot, my lord. My mistress Cleopatra sent me here to you," Diomedes rushed to the fallen general's side. Antony look bewildered at his last comment.

"When did Cleopatra send you?"

"Just now, my lord."

"Where is she?" He demanded sternly while trying to catch his breath.

"She locked herself in her monument. When she heard of your rage, she sent her servant to send you word that she had killed herself. But while locked in her monument she had a fear of what might happen when you heard the news," explained Diomedes. "She ordered me to tell you that she is not dead, indeed she is very much alive. But, I fear her fears were correct. I am too late."

"Yes, too late, but that is my own fault. Guards!"

The three guards rushed to their general.

"Take me, my friends, to where my beloved Cleopatra is. This is the last thing I will ask any of you to ever do."

Gently, the three men carried their general out of the room. Hermione closed her eyes for the all-too-familiar swirling once more. She found herself in what was undoubtedly Cleopatra's hiding place in her monument.

"Oh, Charmian! I can never leave this hiding place," she cried dramatically.

"There is Diomedes!" exclaimed Charmian, pointing down from the monument. Both Hermione and her look-alike queen ran to see what was happening below.

"Diomedes!" shouted the queen. "Tell me, is he dead?"

"Not yet, my queen!" replied Diomedes. "I fear though that it is close upon him. His guards have carried him here."

The guards carrying Antony's wounded body came into view. Cleopatra wailed at the sight.

"Charmian! Iras, help bring him here!" she ordered amidst her tears.

"Stop, my love!" Antony cried. "It is not Caesar who has tried to take me from this world. It was I who dealt the blow!"

"So it should be. No one but Antony should be able to take him down!"

"I am dying, my love, dying. But I cannot die until I have one more kiss from your lovely lips."

"I cannot leave this place! I dare not. Caesar might come here to take me as his prize. I will not be paraded through the streets of Rome! But you will come up here to me, Antony. Help, women," she ordered her maids. "Help friends."

"Quickly or I will be gone before I reach you!" shouted Antony.

The group somehow managed to lift Antony up to where his beloved Cleopatra was. She pulled the wounded Antony into her arms.

"Here you shall die right where you lived… in my arms," Cleopatra said as she kissed him.

"I am dying, beloved," he said again. "But let me speak before I go. Seek Caesar's mercy. Do not cry, my love. I am a Roman and I am dying by the hand of a Roman. It is a glorious death. My spirit is about to leave my body. I can say no more."

"How can I remain in this cruel, colorless world without you?" she cried, kissing him once more.

The onlookers, including Hermione, brushed the tears from their faces as they watched the noble Mark Antony die in the arms of the queen of his heart. When Antony drew his last breath, Cleopatra fainted. Her maids rushed to her side to revive her. After a few moments, she awoke.

"We will bury him in the high Roman fashion," she ordered. "When he is buried, I will seek my own death swiftly."

Hermione found herself back inside of the palace. Cleopatra and her maids, Charmian and Iras, stood with her.

"I will not be a Roman puppet for Caesar to show off!" Cleopatra yelled to the women. "Dress me in my finest garments. I will look like the queen that I am!"

The women left the room, but quickly returned carrying her clothes. She changed hastily, indeed looking like the Queen that she was. A clown walked into the room carrying the infamous basket with him. He set it down at the queen's command, and left.

"Hurry, women! I believe I can hear the voice of my beloved Antony. Come here and let me kiss you each farewell."

Charmian kissed her queen. When Iras kissed Cleopatra her grief overtook her. She fell dead to the floor. 

"Are my lips poisoned?" cried Cleopatra. "Hurry, Charmian, or my Antony may meet her before me."

Hermione gasped when Charmian lifted the lid to the basket. Of course she knew that it contained deadly asps, but she was not prepared for actually seeing them. She knew they could not hurt her, merely a visitor to the past, but she feared them. 

Cleopatra reached her hand in to the basket. She took the asp and applied it to her breast.

"With your sharp teeth and poison take me to my lover and away from Caesar's grasp!"  
"Oh, my lady!" Charmian gasped.

"Quiet, Charmian. This is going to take me away from this place and back into the arms of my love."

She reached back into the basket for another asp to apply to her arm.

"There is nothing left in this world to live for," Cleopatra stated as her body finally gave out. She collapsed on a bed to die.

"Farewell, my queen," Charmian said, fixing the crown on her queen's head.

A guard burst through the room frightening both Charmian and Hermione.

"Where is the queen?" he demanded.

"Quiet, sir. Do not wake her," answered Charmian.

"Caesar has sent…" the guard began.

"Too slow a messenger." Charmian applied an asp to her own body.

Hermione looked at the scene before her and remembered the one prior. The tale of Mark Antony and Cleopatra was without a doubt one of the most tragic stories of love that history or fiction ever produced. To see it before her own eyes, even if she chose to look past the faces, was difficult for her.

Another look at the dead queen, dressed in all her splendor, sent Hermione to her knees. She released tears of emotion she never knew she possessed. She felt the pain of losing someone she loved passionately, even if it was not herself. She witnessed the pain of Cleopatra, and somehow managed to feel it herself. Hermione closed her eyes and wept.

**

Professor McGonagall passed Severus in the corridor outside of the Hospital ward. She said nothing to the man she had only an hour earlier accused of trying to murder her prized student. He shot her a quick, yet effective glare. Not a word was spoken as she turned to retreat to her own office. 

"This is a list of ingredients Miss Granger had in her potion," Severus thrust the parchment into the hand of one of the visiting St. Mungo's mediwizards. "Has there been any change, Poppy?"

"No, I am afraid not, Severus," Poppy said sympathetically. "The doctors are still trying to figure out what can be done for her. You may be asked to brew a potion for them later."

Severus nodded to the witch. He then began to shift uncomfortably in the place he was standing.

"Poppy, Albus asked me to sit by Miss Granger's bedside to be there when she wakes up…" he began.

"Yes, he explained that to me," Madam Pomfrey replied, obviously upset by the decision.

"Do you know why he would make such a request?"

"Not a clue, Severus," she sighed.

With a brief nod to Poppy, Severus went behind the privacy curtains surrounding Hermione's bed. He was pleased to note that she had regained a bit of color in her cheeks, but she still looked as if she had had no change. 

"What are you playing at, Albus?" Severus whispered to himself as he took a seat in the chair by the bed. A chair, no doubt, placed there by the Headmaster.

He looked at the beautiful, young woman lying before him. She had never been this quiet before in his presence, he quietly chuckled to himself. She always had to answer questions or provide those around her of the most trivial of information. Yes, she was a little Miss Know-It-All, but truthfully, that fact had never bothered him before. He respected her. 

He respected that she always took the initiative to find out everything she could on a particular subject. She was always thorough with her essays and explanations in his class. Other students merely did as much as they needed to get by. Hermione Granger did that and far exceeded the requirements. She was never ashamed of the fact that she knew the answer. He knew that in other classes the students who knew the answer were afraid to answer the questions. They were afraid of what their peers would think if they knew everything. Not Hermione… no, not Hermione at all.

Seeing her helpless before him caused him to feel emotions he had no idea he even possessed. When the tears began to flow freely from her closed eyes, he surprised himself by the sudden concern he felt.

"Poppy!" He jumped out of the chair to find the medi witch.

"She is speaking with the wizards from St. Mungo's, Severus," came a familiar voice.

"Albus…"

"Is there something wrong?" He asked, the twinkle in his eyes beginning to get on Severus' nerves.

"Herm… Miss Granger is crying, sir," he explained. "I thought perhaps she might be in some kind of physical pain. Maybe she needs a potion to help."

Albus Dumbledore disappeared behind the privacy screen. Severus followed.

"Yes, she does appear to be crying," Albus said to the potions master. "But… I do not believe there is anything we can do to fix that."

"But…"

"No, I think it best if you just sat in that chair to wait for her to wake on her own."

"Headmast…"

"Sit," Dumbledore interrupted and ordered firmly. Firmly, but gently.

Reluctantly Severus returned to his seat. Dumbledore smiled at him and left.

There was nothing that Severus could do to make Hermione stop her tears. As much as it unnerved him to see them, he could not stop them. These were tears that Hermione had to shed before she could come back. She had to recover from the mistakes of the past. 

_A/N: Thanks again to my reviewers! I love that you all seem to love it! :) So there is the end to the Mark Antony & Cleopatra/Severus & Hermione parallel. And I must admit I am very thankful. :) I hoped you all enjoyed that, but now I am excited to be moving on to other stories. :) The rest of the story will be original I have decided. No more using famous couples or famous stories. It was too hard to make them even remotely similar. :) I had too many ideas for our couple._

_Thanks for everyone who gave me ideas for the other time periods. I won't tell you what they are yet, but I have them decided. :) If there is a time period that you are just dying to see Severus & Hermione in, feel free to leave it in a review. Who knows? If I like it, I might still use it. :)_

_Finals are coming up very soon for me, so I am afraid it may be a little while before I can update. I will try though. Don't be discouraged. I am no where near finished with this story! :)_


	7. Henri & Camille 1

A/N: Because it took so much effort to try to make decent scene changes (when the room Hermione was in would swirl), I've decided to make it a lot easier. Whenever you see **, that means that the room has done the swirly thing and Hermione is looking at something new. I hope that makes sense. J

Chapter Seven:

Hermione found herself standing in the middle of a small, bustling village. She knew that the 'dream' or what ever it was that she was having, had taken her to a new time and a new place. The townspeople moved around her, quickly moving through the stalls of the marketplace. There was nothing extraordinary about the place. No, it was a simple village in what looked to be the Middle Ages.

"It would be nice to be able to ask one of these people just where and when I am," grumbled Hermione, as she ventured to explore her new surroundings.

The sun was high in the sky, indicating it was most likely around noon. A small group of young women passed by and through Hermione. The feeling was unnerving for all parties concerned.

"Did you feel that?" One of the girls asked her friends.

"Yeah, felt a bit cold," her friend replied.

The third and final girl turned to look at her friends. Hermione gasped when she saw the girl's face. It was her… no, er… her face.

"This is starting to get ridiculous!" Hermione sighed.

"I am sure it was only a small burst of wind," the girl with Hermione's face reasoned.

"Leave it to Camille to always have a _logical_ reason for everything that happens," sighed the first girl.

Camille glared at her friend.

"I am so sorry, Miriam. Someone has to think logically. We can not all spend our time in a land of fantasy."

"Girls, please stop quarreling," begged the other girl.

"Sorry, Adelaide," Miriam and Camille replied in unison.

Satisfied, Adelaide continued her walk towards the vegetable seller. Miriam turned to glare at Camille. 

"You always think you are above the rest of us," Miriam spat. "But you are not."

"I never said…"

"You do not have to say a word with your mouth. Your actions speak loud enough for you."

"I am very sorry if I have offended you in some way, Miriam. It was never my intention."

Miriam narrowed her eyes at the girl who resembled Hermione down to the very freckles on her nose. With a quick turn on her heels, Miriam rushed to the side of her friend Adelaide. Camille hesitantly followed.

"That does seem a bit much for potatoes," Miriam said to Adelaide.

"I know it does, but my mother told me to bring her four regardless of the price."

Camille looked terribly bored. Hermione understood the feeling. She felt that way whenever she spent time with Lavender and Parvati. It was no secret that she had never had much use for the girls in her house. They all seemed too preoccupied with clothing, the newest hairstyles from _Witch Weekly_, and the incessant prattle about boys. Ginny Weasley was occasionally a bit of fun to spend some time with, but even she had her moments.

Hermione took the time while the girls from the past were discussing the prices of radishes to take a look at the surrounding shops and people. The marketplace was definitely a hub of activity in the village. Women walked by, arms full of vegetables and baskets, pulling young children by the arms. The children played games in the street with each other, pausing to allow an occasional cart pass. 

"Uhh…" started Camille, timidly. "I am… going to the bookshop."

The two girls looked at the third with both looks of curiosity and frustration.

"What would you do there?" asked Adelaide. Both Hermione and Camille snorted.

"To find a book to read, of course," retorted Camille. "That is what is typically sold in a book shop."

"I will never go in there again," Miriam announced.

"Why is that?" Adelaide asked. She was obviously the ditzy Lavender of the group.

"After Monsieur Girou died last month, his son was sent for to help run the shop and the family farm," informed Miriam.

"I thought Henri Girou died abroad," Camille said.

"No, he was sick while away at university, but never died. He is very much alive… unfortunately."

"Miriam!" scolded Adelaide. "What a dreadful thing to say!"

"He is a horrible man," Miriam replied. "At least that is what my elder brother Pierre said. When they were boys, Girou was always off by himself. Never wanted to play with the other children. France apparently did not change him any."

"We should not be gossiping about him," whispered Adelaide. "It is not proper."

"Pierre went to the shop to purchase a new book the other day, and the younger Monsieur Girou was ghastly to him."

"Perhaps it was not Monsieur Girou who started the unpleasantries," suggested Camille.

"Are you trying to suggest that it was my brother who was the uncouth one?"

"Not at all," Camille replied sarcastically. "Why your _brother_ is always the most courteous and gracious person I have ever met."

Sensing another argument between her two best friends, Adelaide stepped in front of Camille, blocking her from Miriam.

"No need to protect her, Adelaide," hissed Miriam. "I will not be hurting our little bookworm today."

Without another word, Miriam turned on her heel and left the two girls. She paused a moment to glare once more at Camille before she left completely.

"I am sorry about that, Adelaide," Camille sighed. "I did not mean to cause such a scene."

Adelaide smiled warmly at her friend.

"It's all right. I should have known that it would only be a matter of time before you and Miriam quarreled."

"The older we get, the more she dislikes me. I wish I knew what I could do to make her stop hating me."

"Oh, Camille," sighed Adelaide. "She does not hate you."

"It seems…"

"She is envious of you."

Camille gaped at the young woman standing before her.

"What could you possibly mean? Miriam envious of _me_? That is ridiculous," laughed Camille. "She is beautiful. Every man in the village wants to marry her. You have heard her brag about her marriage proposals. It should be any day now that she finally announces her engagement."

"Yes, we all know that Miriam is beautiful, but that is not why she is jealous. Remember when we were younger and took lessons together? She always worked very hard to make the grades she did. Once she told me that she wished she learned as fast as you."

"I never knew that."

"And then when we started taking magic lessons with her grandmother, Madam Benoit?"

Hermione jumped at this revelation. _So these girls were witches? Is everyone in the village magical?_

"Her grandmother was excited to see how well you learned magic. Madam Benoit once made a comment about how she wished Miriam were as good a witch as you. That really hurt her."

"I never knew all of this. It is no wonder why she dislikes me."

"She would be very angry with me if she knew I was telling you all of this."

"I understand. Of course I will not mention it. Are those all of the reasons she acts like she does around me?"

"Well, mostly… but there is also that matter of Varien Perrine."

"The Minister of Magic's son? What about him?"

Adelaide leaned in to whisper to her friend. Hermione had to strain her ears to hear what was being said.

"Miriam told me that Varien was over at their home a few days ago to speak with her brother Pierre. She was listening to them from the next room. You know how she has always said she was going to marry Varien. Pierre has been trying for a while now to get his sister married and out of his house. Since their parents' deaths, he hates to have her around. So Pierre casually brought up the subject of Varien's marriage."

"When will Miriam and Varien's wedding be?" asked Camille sarcastically.

"That was just it. When Pierre mentioned his marriage, he said nothing about Miriam. He started talking about another girl."

"Another? Poor Miriam!"

"He was talking about… you, Camille."

"Me? What did he say about me?" She was shocked.

"Varien said he was impressed by your magical skills when you two studied Potions together under Signor Valencia. He went on to speak of how much he admired an intelligent woman, and how much he admired your want of knowledge."

Hermione laughed to herself. _So there was a man who was impressed by a woman's intelligence? Hmm… too bad he was not at Hogwarts with me._

Camille tried to look upset for her friend's sake, but Hermione noticed how her cheeks suddenly got flushed at the mention of Varien's words. 

"I would never marry Varien," Camille stated plainly.

"Why not?" Adelaide looked as if Camille had something blasphemous. "He is the best apothecary apprentice my father says he has ever had. Not to mention he is the son of the Minister of Magic! Do you realize how much money his family has? A woman could do much worse than marrying Varien Perrine."

"If I married Varien I would be the next Minister of Magic's wife. We all know that once his father dies he will be the next choice. That is not a position I ever want to be in."

"You are mad, do you know that, Camille?" laughed Adelaide. "You are possibly the only girl in this village who would give up a chance at that."

"And… I do not love Varien."

Adelaide let out a snort, and then quickly tried to hide it with a fake sneeze.

"There is more to life than love, Camille. Perhaps you have been reading too many romance stories."

"You are getting married next week, Adelaide. Tell me honestly that you do not love the man you are to marry."

"Well… I am in love with the _thought_ of being in love with him. But actually in love… no. I respect him, but it is not love."

"I will never understand how a woman can marry a man she does not love. How can you?"

"Honestly, Camille, you understand why. My father told me to marry him. Even if I hated him I would still marry him if my father asked me to. It is what a good daughter is supposed to do."

"I fear I would not be as understanding."

"Wait… wait until a man asks your father to marry you. I have no doubt that if Varien Perrine asked your father today if he could marry you, your father would give you up in a moment."

"I am not sure. My father would listen to my wishes I believe."

"For your sake… I hope so, but I am not entirely convinced."

Adelaide pulled the handle of her basket further up her arm.

"I should get going. Mother is expecting these potatoes."

"All right. I was headed towards the book shop anyway."

Adelaide gave her friend a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Be careful… in case that man is how Miriam said he was," cautioned Adelaide.

"I will."

"Tomorrow, then? You are coming over for lunch, are you not?"

"Oh! Of course. Tomorrow…"

Camille waved goodbye to Adelaide before she turned to cross the street towards the bookshop.

"No one person could be as bad as Miriam says he is," Camille whispered to herself as she cautiously opened the door to the shop. "After all, I did have Signor Valencia teach me Potions. There is no possible way any other person could be that harsh on his Potions pupils."

Hermione laughed to herself. _Obviously she never had Professor Snape._

All laughing ceased when Hermione took one look into the shop. There was nothing extraordinary about the bookshop itself. It looked very much like Flourish and Blotts, only smaller. Camille appeared to be the only customer in the shop. The bell above the door rang, announcing her entrance. She immediately went to a stack of large books in the corner of the shop.

"If you are looking for one of those silly romance novels, I have decided to stop selling them," a silky voice hissed in Camille's ear.

Both girls jumped at the sound. Slowly Hermione turned around while Camille retrieved a dropped book from the floor. 

What Hermione saw should have shocked her, but for some reason it did not. A man who looked exactly like her Potions professor stood only inches from where Hermione would have been seen standing. The man was dressed in black wizarding robes. They were old-fashioned, even for Snape's taste, but because she knew nothing about clothing, Hermione had no idea what time period they were from.

"I…" Camille started as she calmly turned around to meet the face of the shopkeeper. "Am not looking for _romance_ novels. Thank you for your help, but if I need it later, I will ask for it." She turned back around to examine the books once more.

The man looked curiously at the young woman who was standing before him. His face was emotionless, but Hermione could not help but notice the flicker of interest in the man's eyes. Obviously he was unused to women standing up for themselves.

"Most Potente Potions?" the shopkeeper said. "Obviously that is far more advanced than you should be looking at. I have a few copies of Beginning Potions for Women right here."

"Oh, I do not think so," Camille said, turning back to face the shopkeeper, the volume tucked firmly under her arm. "My Potions tutor, Signor Valencia…"

The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow at the name.

"… found me too advanced even as a beginner for that particular book. Thank you though," Camille continued, a smirk forming on her face.

Hermione could not keep herself from laughing at the face that the shopkeeper made. Yes, she was beginning to like the girl she shared a face with. Camille was getting under the skin of a man whom Hermione could already tell was just like Snape, and not just his looks.

"Is that correct, Mademoiselle…"

"Laurent."

"Ahh, of course. I assume you are the daughter then of Monsieur Julien Laurent?" He said the name of Camille's father with both respect and disgust in his voice. How he managed to make it sound both ways was beyond Hermione. "Chamomile?"

"Camille," she corrected.

"You studied under Signor Valencia?"

"I believe that is what I just said, Monsieur Girou."

"I have no patience for impertinence! Especially from a woman."

"Oh? Your father found it charming actually."

"Well, as you can see, I am not my father."

"No, you are not. Although you do favor him remarkably."

The man stiffened when she spoke.

"Your eyes give you away though," she said, looking straight into the dark, black depths of the shopkeeper's. "Your father, may he rest in peace, had eyes full of laughter and warmth. Your eyes, however, lack both. I see only cold, sadness looking in them."

Henri Girou, proprietor of the village bookshop, looked away from the young woman before him.

"If that is all you require today… seven sickles and 3 knuts."

Camille reached into her pocket to pull out the necessary currency. She placed it in Henri's extended hand.

"Thank you," she said, smiling warmly at the man. He looked uncomfortable. "I will see you again soon."

As Camille exited the shop, Hermione watched the face of the shopkeeper. He, at first, looked annoyed by the young woman. When the door clicked shut, he was still looking in the direction Camille had left. Slowly, a small smile crept on to his face. Almost as soon as it crossed his face, the smile left, replaced with a scowl. However, Hermione could not help noticing, the look of curiosity was still present in his eyes.

====

Snape lowered himself back down on the chair beside Hermione's bed. She had stopped crying, much to his relief. Tears never stirred much emotion from him, especially tears from a young girl. Usually when someone had the audacity to cry in front of him he rewarded them by taking away House points. That usually sent them crying even more than they already were. His trademark smirk crossed his face at this thought.

"If you can hear me, Miss Granger, trust me when I say that this was not my idea," he said to the patient in little above a whisper. He did not want to risk another person in the hospital ward hearing his words. "The _only_ reason I am seated by your bed is because of the Headmaster. You may thank _him_ when you wake up." 

_A/N: I am so sorry it has taken me so long to update! Finals are almost over for me, so I will soon have more time to devote to writing. This goes also for my other two stories if any of you are reading them as well._

_I hope you liked this new chapter! :) It was much more fun to write than the Antony & Cleopatra chapters. This story will not be as long as the A&C one. That was ridiculous how long it took. :) I am guessing probably another two chapters for this particular 'lifetime' and then I will move on. Tell me what you think! :)_


	8. Henri & Camille 2

Chapter Eight:

A tiny bell tinkled over the door announcing a new arrival to the dark, dusty bookshop. Hermione turned her eyes from the place where she had just been watching the mysterious shopkeeper to see the front door. Camille Laurent crossed the threshold into the bookshop swiftly. The black skies outside poured rain down on the young woman. 

Camille took a look around the shop as she undid the clasp to her cloak. Monsieur Girou, the younger was nowhere to be seen. _Most likely lurking in the shadows waiting for the perfect moment to strike,_ mused Hermione. The young woman who belonged in that time period removed her soaked cloak and hung it on a nearby cloak rack. She pulled a thick volume out of a small satchel she carried with her.

"Come to return the book already, have you?" A voice hissed from the back of the store. Henri Girou emerged from shadows with cat-like stealth. Within moments he was standing by Camille's side.

"Oh… of course not," replied Camille with a smile.

"Why are you wasting my time then?" he barked. "I am a busy man. I have things I need to do."

"I am not here to keep you from your work," she answered, stepping over to a stack of books by the door. "I can find the book I need on my own, thank you."

Her dismissiveness unnerved the bookkeeper. He was unused to this kind of action from a woman. Camille opened her own volume to a marked page. She scanned the contents of the page and then began scanning the titles of the books around her. Girou watched this with only a tiny bit of curiosity. Most of his feelings were more along the lines of hostility.

When a few minutes passed, Henri Girou could take no more. With the sleek moves of a cat, he took the book out of Mademoiselle Laurent's arms.

"Hey!" Camille said, startled. "That is my book."

Henri studied the volume.

"Advanced…" he spat out after a long silence.

"Yes, as am I," Camille snatched the book back. "Now, if you would excuse me."

Henri's reaction was unexpected to say the least. He raised a single eyebrow at the young woman standing before him, and burst out laughing. The laughter coming out of the dark shopkeeper was as unnatural coming from him as it was coming from the sulky potions master. Both Hermione and Camille were uncomfortable with this display of emotion.

"Wha…" stammered Camille. Slowly she regained her composure. "What do you find amusing, if I might ask?"

Remembering himself, Monsieur Girou stopped laughing abruptly. All signs of mirth left his face.

"I… uhh," the stammering was even more out of character than the laughter.

Camille looked at the elegant man stuttering before her. She smiled warmly at him, causing his face to turn a dark shade of red.

"Don't stop laughing on account of me," she said. "You should laugh more often."

"If you do not require my assistance," Henri stated, turning away from the girl. "I will be elsewhere in the store." He moved to the back of the store.

Camille turned back to the stack of books. Henri had thrust her book back at her before he retreated back to the shadows. 

"My father mentioned there being a new school about to be built near Hogsmeade," Camille announced after a few minutes of silence.

Henri lifted his face from the book he was looking over to raise an eyebrow at Camille.

"Schools are built all the time," he replied, returning his gaze to the book.

"Not wizarding schools."

Slowly he put the book down and looked up at her.

"A wizarding school?" he asked. "Who is building it?"

"That wizard who is famous for Transfiguration, I believe. Godric somebody. There are four of them, in all, but he is the only one I remember."

Camille slowly made her way to the back of the store where the shopkeeper was seated.

"Gryffindor?" Girou asked.

"Yes, that's the one," she answered. "Another wizard and two witches, as well. I am afraid I am unfamiliar with those from that country."

"Gryffindor, hmm… I never cared much for him," Girou said partially to himself.

"Do you know him?" Camille seated herself on a stool near Henri.

If Henri was uncomfortable with conversing with the young girl before him, he was by no means hiding it. He shifted his feet and moved from table to table on the pretense of straightening the books.

"We attended Beauxbatons together, unfortunately."

"Oh… what was Beauxbatons like?" She leaned forward to encourage him to speak. "I asked Father if he would send me, but he felt that 'a young lady should be educated at home'."

Hermione felt the room lurch, and begin to spin. She closed her eyes, anticipating a change in scenery. When she reopened them she saw the same thing she had just seen. Henri and Camille were seated in the back of the store talking. The room continued to spin, but not in an uncomfortable way. She did not feel sick as she had in Egypt and Rome.

With each turn of the room, she saw the two together. They wore different clothes. Sometimes they were talking, others they were reading a book together. A few times they were huddled around a bubbling cauldron, no doubt trying to best the other's potions skills. Other customers were occasionally in the shop with them. The more the room spun, the closer the two in front of Hermione seemed to get. Their figures and faces were rigid and uncomfortable to begin. Slowly they relaxed, and the strange laughter that had felt so foreign that second day in the bookshop no longer was strained and foreign.

Hermione could not hear what the two were saying to each other during the spinning. She saw their relationship progress through the looks they gave each other and the occasional chaste touches of the hands or an accidental brush across an arm. When Hermione found the room stop turning and she could hear the conversation taking place in the bookshop, she found the two familiar figures huddled over a cauldron. They each held a goblet in their hands.

"I knew this would be a terrible idea," Camille said to the dark figure beside her. "I should never have let you talk me in to doing such a terrible experiment."

Henri rolled his eyes uncharacteristically at the young girl. Before Hermione had a chance to inspect what they were working on, Henri burst out into a fit of girlish giggles. This stopped her cold in her tracks. Camille gaped at the young man.

"Do not do that!" she ordered forcefully. "Someone might come in to the shop. You cannot be giggling like a schoolgirl!"

Hermione was terribly confused by the scene before her.

"_I_ really should buy more comfortable robes," Henri stated, pulling at his lapel. "Could you explain to me please how I managed to survive the last thirty years in such garb?"

Henri moved in front of a wall mirror to inspect his reflection.

"How did _you_ survive?" Camille snapped. "This robe of _mine_ has to be the most uncomfortable garment ever stitched together."

Camille scowled as the man sniggered once more.

"Cease that blasted giggling!" shouted Camille with more force than Hermione realized a petite woman like her possessed.

Hermione crossed to the cauldron to inspect its contents. Knotgrass, lacewing flies, boomslang skin, and leeches were scattered across the worktable. There were other ingredients that she could not identify directly. A few moments later it struck her… _Polyjuice Potion._

"How long does this last?" insisted the person disguised as Camille.

"Only about an… hour," whispered the young 'man'. "Honestly, Henri, you knew what you were getting yourself into when you volunteered for the experiment."

"I never volunteered for this!" shouted the real Henri. "You asked me for assistance in trying out a new, difficult potion. If I had known what that would have entailed…"

Camille left the mirror to stand in front of the man who now possessed her own body, at least temporarily. He… she rather, as it was beginning to become difficult for Hermione to keep track of who was whom, reached her hand out to touch the delicate skin that only a few minutes prior had been her own.

"This truly is a strange experience," Camille laughed.

Henri shrugged out of Camille's touch. He sat himself down on a stool to sulk.

"My father was right," Camille said, eyeing the shopkeeper. "I do not look attractive when I brood."

Henri glared at her. To spite him, Camille scowled darkly. The reaction she intended to get was exactly what she got. He looked startled.

"Perhaps…" he said in little above a whisper. "I should not scowl as often as I do."

Camille laughed and took one of his small hands in her large ones. All three in the bookshop jumped at the sound of the bell above the door announcing the arrival of a customer. Henri's reaction on Camille's face gave away his fear. Someone was in the shop and they were going to see the two of them switched! Remembering himself, Henri jumped off the stool and crossed to the customer.

"Is there something I can help you find today?" He asked, shifting his feet uncomfortably.

The customer looked up at Henri trapped inside the young female body of Camille. He was obviously a gentleman with more years behind him than in front of him. A smile that unnerved Henri crept across the wizard's face.

"Thank you, mademoiselle, but I believe what I am looking for requires the aid of a man," he answered dismissively, crossing the room to Camille trapped inside of Henri's body.

Hermione found herself laughing at the dejected look on Henri's borrowed face. Once Camille had assisted the customer in finding what must be found with the 'aid of a man', she closed the door behind the customer and turned to face Henri.

"So…" she crossed to stand before Henri. "How did that man make you feel?"

Henri glared at her.

"Angry," he grumbled. "Angry because he did not believe I could help him. Because he did not believe I could possibly know anything whilst trapped inside this body."

Camille smiled triumphantly.

"Do you remember the day we met?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," he answered through gritted teeth.

"You treated me exactly how that man just treated you."

Henri jumped from his stool and returned to the cauldron table. He began flipping through the pages of a book furiously.

"There has to be an antidote for this potion!" he fumed. "I will not be you any longer!"

"Calm down," Camille snuck up behind Henri and boldly placed her arms around his waist. "It will only last a few more minutes. Look, your hair is already changing back to black."

He jumped out of her embrace to hide behind a large stack of books.

"Give me back my robe!" he demanded. "I will not be seen in your robe in my own body."

Camille laughed, but did as he asked. She stood a few feet away from him behind her own stack. They exchanged robes and a few minutes later emerged from their respective spaces as themselves.

"I will _never_ help you with another potion again," Henri threatened.

"I assumed a reader like yourself would understand what the Polyjuice Potion was used for," she giggled.

His familiar scowl crept across his face.

"I may read a lot, but I do not know _everything_," he retorted.

"Perhaps this will teach you to know more about a potion before you willingly ingest it."

"Perhaps this will teach me to never trust you again."

The words sounded harsh, but they all knew he was not serious. Hermione steadied herself for the spinning once more. It did not last nearly as long as it had previously. When it stopped she found Henri alone in the bookshop. It was not to last as Camille burst through the door, almost knocking the tinkering bell off the frame completely.

Henri turned around abruptly at this disturbance. His face changed swiftly from anger to concern when he saw the tears that streamed steadily down the face of the woman Hermione knew he loved.

"Camille?" he asked meekly.

She said nothing, only threw herself into his arms. He was taken aback for a moment, but then proceeded to hold the sobbing woman.

"Here… sit down." Henri led her to a chair. "Let me pour you some tea."

He returned a minute later with a cup of steaming tea. She took the cup and saucer in her shaky hand.

"Can you tell me what this is all about?" he asked firmly, but gently.

"Father…" she choked out in between sobs. "Father… just informed me of my impending marriage."

The news shocked Hermione, but did not appear to shock Henri. He turned his face from Camille and began to pace a small area of floor before her.

"Marriage?" he asked quietly.

"Varien Perrine asked Father for my hand last night."

"I see."

"Adelaide warned me that this might happen. She told me a year ago of his interest," Camille explained. "Actually it was the day that I met you."

"When will the marriage take place?"

"What?!" Camille and Hermione both said at once, although only one voice was heard.

Henri crossed the room; his back faced towards Camille.

"The marriage cannot take place!" shouted Camille. "You cannot let it!"

He turned to look her in the eye.

"What can I do?" It was not an offer for suggestions.

"What can you do?! Stop it!"

Camille jumped from her stool, the teacup and saucer clattering to the floor. She reached the bookkeeper in only a few long strides.

"I love you, Henri! Surely you know that by now."

"Yes, I am aware."

His coolness infuriated Camille.

"Do you not love me?" she asked timidly.

He turned away from her once more.

"Of course I love you," he replied quietly.

"Then stop this from happening! Please!" She reached out for his arm, and turned him around forcefully.

"There is nothing I can do," he answered.

"What?!"

"What could I possibly do? Ask Monsieur Laurent if he would give his consent for his daughter to marry a bookshop proprietor with more debts than profits? Ask him to let her marry _me _instead of the future Minister of Magic?" His voice was cold, but obviously full of pain. "Your father would laugh in my face, Camille."

Camille's face fell. The tears that had stopped flowing began again.

"We could elope," she suggested.

"And have you lose all respectability and the love of your family? I would never ask you to do that for me."

"But I love you. I would."

"And that is why I am not going to let you."

He pulled his arm out of her grasp gently and turned to walk away from her. She looked towards him, and then looked at the door only a few feet from her.

"Henri, if you let me walk out that door," she began. "I will not be coming back."

"Then perhaps you should go," he answered, his voice full of emotion. "Perrine could give you a life I could only dream of giving you."

"That does not matter to me," she insisted.

"I will not let you throw away everything."

She walked to the back of the store to face him.

"If you let me walk out of that door, I will not be coming back," she repeated.

He said nothing, only turned away from her. She wiped the tears streaming down her face, and walked back to the door. When she saw Henri had not turned around, she opened the door and left.

Hermione saw the shoulders of the shopkeeper sag when the door shut. She had never seen such sadness on a person's face before.

The room began to spin again slowly. Only this time Henri was alone in each tableau. The spinning stopped. He stood alone in the back of the shop drinking a glass of what appeared to be fire whiskey. The bell tinkled above the door, and his face shot up immediately to view the newcomer. When he saw the newest arrival was Adelaide, Camille's childhood friend, he stood abruptly and rushed to her.

"It is true then?" he asked timidly.

"I am afraid so," she answered, wiping a tear away with her handkerchief. "The doctor did all that he could for her. Nothing magical or muggle could have saved her."

Henri rubbed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

"What happened with the child?" he asked.

"He survived," Adelaide replied. "The doctor said he is just fine. Nothing appears to be wrong with him."

"Camille," he whispered to himself. He turned from Adelaide as she left the shop. "You died bringing that Perrine brat into this world. It is all my fault. I should have never let you leave. I am so sorry."

Hermione watched the broken man as she faded out of the shop.

"Whatever this is," she said as the last glimpse of Henri Girou faded from her view. "I cannot take much more of it. I have to wake up soon."

==

He had been seated next to Miss Granger's bedside for nearing four hours. There had been no change in her condition. The mediwizards from St. Mungo's had nothing new to report. They were still trying to find an antidote to the potentially lethal concoction she had absentmindedly produced.

"What is he doing there?" Snape heard a voice whisper behind the partition that kept Hermione's bed away from the prying eyes of others.

"Mione will not be happy to see him first thing when she wakes up," the voice belonging to Ronald Weasley continued.

"Ron, Shh," whispered Ginny Weasley. "He is most likely there to keep an eye on her symptoms."

"Ginny's probably right, Ron," Harry Potter chimed in. "We should go."

Snape had never been more relieved to see Potter and the two Weasleys leave a room before. 

"What am I doing here exactly?" he asked himself for perhaps the hundredth time that day.

He leaned back in the chair, and closed his eyes. A minute later he jumped out of the chair and strode across the hospital ward.

"This is ridiculous. I am not sitting around here any longer."

_A/N: I am so, so, so, so sorry it took that long to update! I had no idea it would take over a month. Between finals, moving, and finding a new job I have been swamped! I promise to update more often! _

_Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter! I love reading your comments._


	9. Gabriel & Clara 1

Chapter Nine

Albus Dumbledore's favorite time of day was the one hour in the afternoon he was without any official Headmaster duties. Half past three o'clock he was free to roam the halls of his beloved castle. Lessons would be over at four; giving him only a half hour of relative silence in the halls.

"Severus?" He called after his sullen Potions master who at the moment was leaving the hospital ward.

"Headmaster…" Severus stopped dead in his tracks. He averted his eyes from his mentor's knowing gaze.

"I assumed you would still be in the hospital ward, Severus," Dumbledore looked into his potion master's countenance. Severus looked away.

"Headmaster, it makes no sense for me to sit by the bed of a sick student," he began. "It is ridiculous. I have things that I need to do, and cannot be spending what little time I have watching over Miss Granger. That is Poppy's duty."

Severus turned from Dumbledore to walk the familiar corridors to his dungeons.

"Severus, wait," Dumbledore ordered.

"Yes?" He was not happy, and the insistence of his headmaster was beginning to get on his already thin nerves.

"I expect you to be in the hospital ward when Miss Granger wakes up."

Albus Dumbledore left the professor to continue his daily walk through the castle. In only a few short minutes the hundreds of Hogwarts students would invade the hallways. He turned to watch Professor Snape walk back towards the dungeons.

==

There was only one word that Hermione could think of to describe the new place she found herself in: chaotic. Explosions were occurring only yards from where she was standing. She heard the shouts of men all around her.

"This is beginning to become ridiculous," she hissed under her breath. "Where am I now?"

She surveyed her surroundings, desperately wishing to be back in the familiarity of the stone walls of Hogwarts Castle. The land around her was strange. She knew she was nowhere near her home, but then again this was not the first time she was away. These trips through time and space were beginning to take a toll on her. The most obvious feature of the newest landscape was the dark red dirt. Grass was green, and the dirt was red. The air was cool, but smelled of fire and gunpowder.

"I should have known," Hermione muttered to herself.

A young woman, who not surprisingly shared the same countenance with Hermione, stood only twenty feet away. She was dressed in a light green dress that by her day's standards would have been very simple. Hermione had never seen so much material for one dress. Fashions from the past and present were hardly Hermione's expertise. Parvati and Lavender could have placed the young woman's dress within five years.

Despite the chaos surrounding her, Hermione remained calm. These trips between eras had taught her that no matter what was happening in front of her, she could not alter its events or the words the characters used.

"It's like visiting someone's memories," she thought to herself, shielding her eyes from the bright, hot sun as she took in the view of the large trees surrounding her. "But whose memories are they?"

The young woman was doing her best to hide her full, bell-like skirt behind a tree. She was nervous; her face spoke volumes about her anxiety. Hermione moved closer. With each new explosion that seemed to move closer by the moment, the woman gasped and wrung her hands.

"What is happening?" Hermione knew no one could her hear speak, but it made her feel better nonetheless.

A strange yell echoed throughout the grove of trees that had become the women's sanctuary. It was a sound unfamiliar to Hermione's ears. She racked her brain trying desperately to remember where she had heard it previously. Before she had a chance to wonder any further, dozens of men broke through the trees in a run.

"Oh no!" the woman beside Ms. Granger gasped.

Hermione was at least a hundred yards from a fierce, bloody battle. The dozens of men fighting soon turned to hundreds. While the bedlam was still a fairly safe distance away and continuing to move in the opposite direction, the woman in the pale dress became steadily more nervous. Fear, however, seemed to have her glued to where she was standing.

A steady stream of soldiers clad in blue and gray uniforms continued to battle not far in the distance.

"What war is this?" Hermione knew that somewhere in her mind she knew what was happening before her very eyes, but at that moment she was having trouble recalling the details.

"You cannot just stand here and wait to get yourself killed, Clara," the young woman said to herself.

The girl was American, Hermione felt certain. She had a noticeable drawl to her accent that made her unseen companion feel for sure she was from one of the southern states of the country.

"Of course! The American Civil War!" Hermione exclaimed, again to herself. She was beginning to become frustrated at the isolation she felt from the world.

She had read books about the subject a few summers earlier. It seemed to her a very interesting time in the history of the country she wished to someday visit.

"I have to get out of here," Clara said before turning to escape the ensuing battle.

Clara picked up her skirts and ran further into the deeply wooded area. Hermione had no trouble following the fleeing girl. It was obvious that not being confined within the restrictive, fashionable attire of that day gave a person an advantage. She caught up with her in no time at all.

A small, run-down shed emerged from its hiding place amongst the trees. Clara rushed to the door, threw it open wide, and disappeared inside.

"It's all right, kitty," Clara said to a mangy, orange cat that had begun hissing at the entrance of the two look-alike women. "It's just me."

Hermione was shocked that anyone, let alone a young woman could live in such a dismal space. The entire shed was no more than an area of about twenty feet by another twenty feet. A small fireplace with a teakettle hanging in it took up a great deal of the space. Tucked away in a darkened corner sat a tiny cot hardly big enough for a single person to sleep in. The only other furnishings in the well kempt, tiny room was a bulky trunk, a diminutive slab table, and two plain ladder back chairs. Scattered around the space's walls were crudely made shelves housing personal affects, sewing materials, few dishes, and a minimal amount of food. Clara was obviously a good housekeeper judging by the cleanliness of the depressing abode.

"The fighting was really close this time, Tuffy," Clara sat in a chair, and pulled the half-starved feline into her lap. "They seem to be going in the opposite direction from us. Maybe they will all be gone soon."

Tuffy raised its head to meow at his weary mistress,

"There is not much left for the Yankees to take," she sighed. "Soon they will have to leave. I only hope they will not find our little hideaway before they do. I did not manage to save much from those vultures' hands when they plundered my beloved Sycamore Creek, but what I do have, I could not bear them to take."

She looked around at the few possessions she still had. They were definitely few, Hermione noticed, but they obviously meant a lot to Clara. The Hogwarts' Head Girl walked slowly around the room looking at each tiny trinket Clara had on display. Nothing looked to be of much value other than sentimental.

The cabin was darker and Clara had moved when Hermione turned back to face the girl. There had obviously been a time change. The noise outside had all but disappeared, as well. An unnerving calm settled over the woods. For an odd reason Hermione wished for the explosions over the silence. Clara stood up from the crouching position she had taken while stoking the fire. Taking a small bucket down from a shelf, she started to exit the front door.

"I will be gone just a few minutes, Tuffy," she reassured her cat who had lifted his head from the sleeping position he had assumed on the bed.

Hermione followed Clara out the door of the little cabin. The night air was sweet, but she could still smell the gunpowder from the day's battle. Clara tiptoed past the cabin very quietly. She stopped every few steps to look around her. Living alone in the woods during a war had apparently made her very cautious about her nighttime travels. Hermione was thankful that she could not make any noise that Clara or anyone who might have been in the woods could hear. She had never been very good at being stealthy unless she charmed her shoes to make no noise. Her wand was not in any of her pockets so that was not an option.

Clara made her way noiselessly to a nearby stream. Pausing once more to make certain that there was no one around her, she snuck behind a small shrub to fill up her bucket. Even that she did without making a sound. When she was done, she retraced her steps effortlessly and silently. Hermione was so impressed with this that she hardly noticed Clara stop uncertainly in front of her cabin.

A man was lying only feet from her door. Both Clara and Hermione crept forward to take a better look at the man. His face was pressed down in the earth, but even without confirmation, Hermione felt certain that this man would look exactly like her potions professor.

"Of course," Hermione sighed. "Because I can't go anywhere without him showing up not too far behind."

Clara said nothing as she examined the obviously wounded soldier. His uniform was too dirty and bloody to tell if he was a Yankee or a Confederate in the darkness. Whatever he was seemed to make no difference to Clara. Her countenance changed when she laid eyes on him. Where there had been hardness and fear, Hermione only saw concern. Clara gently shook the man. He let out a small grunt, but did not open his eyes.

"Shh!" came a voice deep within the woods, scaring Clara and Hermione. "I think I heard something over there!"

Without pausing for a second, Clara pulled the wounded man through the door to her cabin. He was unconscious. Whatever had happened to him was serious. She pulled the man to the floor near the fireplace, and shooed Tuffy off his comfortable place on the bed. With one swift movement she had moved the bed and managed to open a trapdoor that led to some kind of cellar. Possessing strength that Hermione felt only came from great fear and living alone in a trying time, Clara somehow managed to drag the man, very gently, down the ladder with her to the cellar. 

Hermione was shocked at the size of the cellar when she managed to get down the ladder after Clara. It had to have been at least thrice the size of the tiny cabin. Every inch of space was filled with heavy furniture, trunks, paintings, and all manner of other things. A large, overstuffed sofa was up against a back wall. Clara had placed the man on it and laid a warm quilt over his shivering body. Realizing that Clara was coming back up the ladder, Hermione rushed to beat her to it. She did not want to be stuck down here in the dark.

_Knock. Knock. KNOCK. KNOCK. Knock. _There was a pattern to the knocking on the door. Two soft knocks, two hard knocks, and then one soft. 

Apparently relieved to hear the pattern, Clara threw open the door once she had replaced the cot to its original spot. Two tired Confederate soldiers were standing at her door.

"Joshua!" Clara shrieked, jumping into the open arms of a young man with chestnut hair. The other stood aside to give Clara and Joshua room to embrace.

"Benjamin and I cannot stay very long, Clara," Joshua said, as the three entered the tiny cabin hardly large enough to fit them all.

"I have been so worried about you, Joshie," Clara cried.

Clara and Joshua sat in the only chairs. Benjamin stood guard at the door.

"I was not sure you would come back," she continued.

Joshua pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to her.

"Not come back?" he said. "Of course I came back. I promised to take care of you when Pa died. I will always come back to my sister."

"Not exactly what I was expecting," Hermione said to herself. She had never had a brother before. The closest she had was Harry Potter. 

"The fighting looked so bad today," Clara wiped her tears on her elder brother's handkerchief.

"You left the cabin!" His voice was raised little above a whisper, but the inflection said it all. "I told you to stay inside during the day and only leave at night when absolutely necessary. That is why I have Big Joe stop by with supplies."

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have, but I had to see. It was so much louder today than normal. I had to be certain that it was not closer than it was."

"You could have been seen! Or killed. Please, Clara, you have to be more careful."

The three stopped talking and moving abruptly at the sound of more voices outside. Benjamin held his rifle tighter, and cracked the door open. He let out a sigh of relief.

"They are our boys," he announced. "Tom and Johnny… they must have seen us come this way."

"Have the Yankees gotten to your home yet, Benji?" Clara asked, hesitatingly.

"Thankfully, no. Ma said she wishes you would go stay with them instead of out here on your own. She says this is no place for a young lady to be all alone. Trapped in a hunting cabin with the war going on around here."

"No!" Clara protested vehemently. "I will not leave these woods until the Yankees have left the South completely!"

The familiar pattern of knocking echoed throughout the cabin. Benjamin opened the door to admit two more soldiers Hermione assumed were Tom and Johnny.

"We have to go," Benjamin said to Joshua and Clara. "We have to find that damn Yank who got past us."

"A Yankee?" Clara asked.

"Nothing you should really worry about, sis," Joshua assured her. "We think he is a deserter. He is sick and cannot move very fast, but somehow he managed to get past us."

Joshua stood up from the chair and strode over to the door.

"We should go before he gets too far away. Bolt the door, Clara, and do not open it for anyone," Joshua instructed as she hugged him once more.

"Be careful," she pleaded.

"There is nothing to fear, Miss Richmond," one of the new soldiers said. "Soon the war will be over."

"Will it really be over?" she asked, pleadingly.

"I'm afraid so," Benjamin answered. "Only I am afraid we will not be the victors."

"You mustn't say that!" Clara retorted.

The sound of a single rifle shot broke through the night air.

"It's the signal," Joshua said. "They must have found him. I will try to be back soon."

He kissed Clara on the forehead and stole off into the night.

Once the door was bolted, Clara rushed back to uncover the trapdoor that led to the store of the Richmond family treasures. The wounded soldier was still asleep. Clara lit a lamp that was seated on a nearby table. She looked over the man in the light.

Yes, he looked exactly like Professor Severus Snape, right down to the hooknose and greasy black hair. And yes, he was dressed in the blue uniform of Clara's enemy. But Yankee or not, she began to clean his deep wounds and slowly nurse him back to health. 

_A/N: With the impending release of the fifth book (YAY!!!) my story may or may not be finished before this weekend. I will try my hardest, but it is possible that it won't. If not then I ask that in the future you bear with me if it suddenly is out of canon. _

_Now that that is out of the way... As a Southerner in the great United States I thought an American Civil War story would be perfect for our couple! I am sorry if it seems clichéd, but I love the Civil War era. I hope this chapter is up to standards and that you all enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing it._


	10. Gabriel & Clara 2

Chapter Ten

Hermione paced the small, open area of the cabin's cellar.

"Strange for someone to keep such beautiful things hidden underground," she thought.

Clara has been up for hours, or so Hermione assumed. Time passed by for her much faster than Clara.

"You will be all right," Clara said to the sleeping Union soldier sprawled out on her couch. She removed the compress from his head and dunked it in the porcelain bowl sitting on a nearby table. "Whatever is wrong with you does not look too serious. I have seen worse with the field hands."

Loneliness had obviously taken a toll on the young Southern woman. The ease in which she spoke with her cat and the sleeping soldier indicated that she had to find company in strange places. From Hermione's perspective, she assumed it had been three days since the arrival of her patient. The time changes kept her from being certain.

"I will be back in a few minutes," Clara assured the man though he could not respond. "We are getting low on water. The sun should be down by now."

Anxious to leave the confines of the cramped cellar, if only for a few minutes, Hermione followed Clara up the rickety ladder into the main room of the cabin. Clara wasted no time in moving her cot over the trapdoor. If Hermione had been corporeal, the bed would have crushed her. Moments later Clara was slowly opening the cabin door to peer outside into the darkness.

Once she was satisfied that no one was out there, Clara slipped out, quickly shutting it behind her. Hermione had been ready for this. She crept past Clara as she exited. The cold, unnerving feeling of a spirit passing through a person plagued both girls. They shivered at the contact.

"Don't do that again." Hermione scolded herself.

Clara had the same routine for retrieving water. Nothing about the excursion was the least bit interesting to Hermione. As they made the walk back to the cabin, a low, feline growl broke through the silence. Clara jumped behind a tree to hide.

Unaware that Tuffy's growl was warning its mistress of possible danger, Hermione continued walking towards the cabin. She stopped just shy of the open door.

"Clara closed that door, I'm positive," Hermione said in a whisper.

Approaching the door slowly, Hermione could feel her lungs burning with the reminder that she needed to breathe again. Remembering that no matter who was in there, they could not see or hear her, she calmed down considerably. She was almost to the door when she heard the clatter of tin pots and pans crashing to the floor.

"Look, Miller, there's not anything left in here," a voice from within said. "It looks like whoever lived here is gone now."

There were two young soldiers dressed in the typical Union blue uniform inside of Clara's cabin.

"The fire has been lit recently," the second soldier, apparently named Miller, said. "They may still be around."  
Tuffy resumed his post outside of the door of the cabin. He lowered himself to the ground, and let out a loud snarl that echoed throughout the woods.

"Let's go," the first soldier said again. "Obviously the captain is not here. We should meet back up with the others."

He was jumpy, obviously afraid of what was in the woods. Tuffy's incessant growling was obviously making matters worse.

"You're not nervous, are you, Griffin?" Miller laughed.

"No…" an obvious lie. "We should just be getting back."

"All right, you win," Miller picked up the rifle he had unceremoniously dropped in a chair and led the way out the door.

Hermione moved away from the door to prevent another unsuspecting person from walking through her. Griffin, the anxious soldier began to walk away from the cabin. Miller took his time. He stared down at Tuffy. Tuffy stared up at him. Neither of them moved until Tuffy hissed again.

"You have to be the most annoying hunk of fur I've ever seen," Miller said to Tuffy.

"Let's go, Miller. It's just a cat."

Miller moved his rifle to his shoulder and took aim at the defenseless cat before him.

"You won't be so annoying when you're dead, will you?" he challenged Tuffy. The cat only continued to stare at him. 

As Miller moved closer to the cat with his rifle, Hermione could see Clara hidden in the bushes get increasingly nervous. She hoped Clara would remain hidden. There was no telling what might happen to her if the soldiers saw her.

"Ever eaten cat, Griffin?"

"Cat? Absolutely not. That is disgusting."

"Actually it's not a bad meal. This one though is kind of scrawny. Probably only good for a couple of bites."

Miller took aim once more. When he was just about to fire, Clara jumped from the bushes.

"No, please don't!" she cried, scaring both men and the cat. Hermione felt sick with fright about what might happen next.

Griffin simply stared at Clara in shock. His fear of something or someone lurking in the woods had been confirmed. Tuffy scampered away into the cabin. Miller looked at Clara in a way that could only be described as revolting. 

"Well, what do we have here?" he eyed her and smiled.

"I had no wish to see my cat shot," Clara replied calmly, although her eyes gave away her fear.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing here all by yourself?"

"That is none of your concern. Please leave my home at once."

"Now I don't believe you understand the seriousness of this situation, miss."

"Miller, let's go," urged Griffin.

"No, not yet," he snapped. "We were sent here to do a job, and I'll be damned if we don't do it."

"If you are looking for valuables or food, you have come to the wrong place," Clara continued. "I have nothing."

Miller moved closer to Clara. He was standing only feet from her. Hermione saw Clara flinch once, but keep her ground.

"See, miss, we are with General Sherman. He was given orders straight from the President, the real President, Abraham Lincoln. We are to destroy everything that the South could use for their benefit."

"And a young woman living alone in a hunting cabin with her cat would serve what purpose for the Confederacy exactly?"

Miller grabbed Clara roughly by the arm. His face was only an inch or two from hers.

"This one's got quite a mouth on her," he spat. "I don't care for women who talk too much."

Griffin moved to stand behind his fellow soldier. Taking Miller by the arm, he pulled him away from Clara.

"Now, Miller. Let's leave," he almost shouted.

"We should burn this cabin down."

Clara's eyes widened at Miller's last comment.

"Nothing would be gained from that," replied Griffin. "We've already checked. She doesn't have anything of value. Let's just leave."

"You were lucky this time."

Both soldiers disappeared into the woods. Clara let out a long, relived sigh before heading back inside the cabin.

"Did you have to hiss at them, Tuffy?" she scolded. 

Tuffy was scratching at the trapdoor under the cot.

"The water!"

Remembering the bucket of fresh water she discarded when she jumped out from the bushes, Clara snuck back outside to retrieve it. Hermione waited inside for her return. Tuffy continued to claw furiously at the trapdoor. When she moved closer, Hermione could hear movement down in the cellar.

"Looks like our patient is awake," she said to herself.

Clara returned a moment later. She wasted no time in pushing Tuffy away from the door. Tuffy hissed at her, but then resigned himself to curl up by the dying fire. She moved the cot away from the corner to open the door.

"Who are you?!" demanded a voice from the cellar. Hermione jumped in to see what the commotion was all about.

The wounded soldier/potions professor look-alike was sitting up on the sofa. He had been trying to put his boots on when Clara entered the cellar with the water. Clara calmly crossed the tiny space to the man.

"Something told me you would have a sour disposition," she announced.

He sat there shocked at the young woman before him.

"Even unconscious you were not a good patient," Clara continued. She set the bucket of water down on the floor next to the couch and took a seat in her customary rocker.

"How long have I been here?" he asked softly.

"Three days." She gently pushed him back down on the couch. Once she removed the one boot that was already on his foot and pushed the other aside, she began to silently prepare more clean water in her basin.

"How did I get here?"

"I found you laying outside of my cabin. Through no small effort of my own, I managed to pull you downstairs here."

Clara took the compress she had been using earlier and placed it back on the forehead of the man. He seemed to want to object at first, but gave in.

"May I ask another question?" he was unsure of her reaction.

Clara only laughed a small, quiet laugh.

"All right."

"Who are you?"

"Clara Richmond," she responded quickly. "I must admit that I already know who you are, Captain Gabriel Maddox."

He raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing.

"I found your identification papers in the pocket of your coat." She pointed to his blue uniform coat with large brass buttons hanging over the back of a chair.

Captain Maddox was a much friendlier man than Professor Snape ever was, Hermione noticed. While still somewhat standoffish, the captain was at least not glaring at Clara and shouting obscenities or belittling her.

"I thank you for your care, Miss Richmond," he said as he began to sit up. "But I must get back to my men."

Clara pushed him back down on the couch.

"No, you will stay right here," she ordered nicely.

"Excuse me?" He glared at her. At once Hermione could see the spark of Severus Snape in the man in front of her.

"You are not well enough to leave," she informed him as she placed the fallen compress back on his forehead. "You may be awake, but you still have a slight fever. If you are not careful it can turn into something much worse."

"I am sure the doctor in camp can see to my health better than you could." He sat up again.

Clara pushed him down once more.

"He is probably too busy fixing up the injured from the battle the other day."

"I appreciate your help," he not only sat up, but also stood up to his full height. His head reached the ceiling. While his height should have been intimidating to a woman of Clara's size, it was not.

"The woods are crawling with Confederates. You would not make it twenty feet without being captured."

This seemed to sink in. Captain Maddox resumed a seated position on the couch.

"And when do you suppose I will be able to return to my troops?"

"When you are well enough, we will think of that then."

Clara stood up from her rocker and moved to the tiny ladder.

"Seeing how you have had nothing to eat but broth for three days, I will bring you something solid to eat," she informed him before disappearing into the cabin above.

Hermione watched the man seated on the couch. Any other man in his position might have felt uncomfortable being in a strange place with no way out. This captain was downright jumpy and anxious to get out of the cellar.

"What the hell is all of this anyway?" he muttered to himself as he surveyed his surroundings.

Hermione laughed to herself. She had been wondering the same thing earlier that day. Clara's cabin in the woods held many strange secrets. The most obvious one was the horde of 'treasure' in the cellar. Why anyone would hide beautiful furniture, china and all manner of other possessions in a dank, dirty cellar was beyond her.

"I do not have a lot of variety in my food," Clara announced once she returned from above. She held a tin plate with green beans and a bit of cornbread out to Captain Maddox.

"Thank you."

They each ate their meal in silence. Between bites they both eyed the other one secretly. It was obvious that they were interested in finding out all that they could about the other.

"Explain to me why you have all of this down here," Gabriel finally said after several minutes of silence.

"My father," she replied simply.

He looked at her strangely.

"When my father was a teenager, the British army invaded his father's plantation. They stole pretty much everything. After Fort Sumter and my brother running off to enlist in the Confederate army, my father had this cabin built. Afraid that the Yankees would come to his home and take his prized possessions, he hid them in here."

Gabriel Maddox continued to look at her strangely.

"What did you use in your own home if all of this was here?"

"We still had furniture, if that's what you are asking. My father was… well, a little… crazy."

"I see. And if I may ask… why are you alone in this place? It seems a young woman should be living in better conditions than these."

Clara grew silent. She dropped her eyes to look at the floor. When she looked back at the man tears were streaming down her face.

"Because I have nowhere else to go," she spat out. "If the Yankees… if your men had not burned my home down I would be living there right now."

Gabriel looked away from her when she said this.

"We were following orders," he said, almost ashamed.

"Yes, well, your orders broke my father's heart. Everything he dreamed of, everything he worked hard to provide for his family was ruined in less than a day. And now… now he is gone and I am living in this dreadful place alone."

She was steadily getting angrier by the moment. Hermione did not blame her, of course. She had read stories of what had happened to innocent people's homes and possessions during Sherman's March to the Sea. They lost everything they had ever worked for. While most of the men were off fighting a losing war, the women, children and the elderly felt the burden of suddenly having no roof over their heads and all of their livestock and food stolen by the Union soldiers. Hermione had never understood any of it. Innocent people died for seemingly no reason.

"I did not wish to offend you, Miss Richmond," Captain Maddox called after Clara. She had rushed from the cellar into the cabin above.

No, this man was definitely different from the potions professor that spent the majority of his time terrorizing young students. Captain Maddox obviously had more feeling that Professor Snape ever did. In only the short time Hermione had been around the captain while he was conscious, she knew she liked him. It was obvious in the time she watched Clara care for this man that she was already deeply attracted to the handsome captain.

"This just keeps getting more interesting," Hermione said aloud. "I wonder what will happen next."

===

Severus had been pacing the front of his classroom for at least ten minutes. For some unknown reason to him, he could not sit still. His thoughts were on Hermione Granger. That revelation in itself was enough to confuse him. He had never felt any real emotion towards the girl. In the past he acted as if she was the bane of existence, but in reality, he found the young witch refreshing and a bit intriguing. When she was not trying to teach his class herself or when she was not helping Longbottom with one of his blasted potions, she was everything he wished his other students were.

Now she was in the hospital ward clinging on desperately to life. He felt responsible, terribly responsible. It had been his damn potion that almost killed her. And Dumbledore was not helping the situation any. His cryptic orders and explanations were on Severus' last nerve.

One of the scores of Hogwarts' house elves Apparated into the storeroom. It was that annoying Dobby, Severus noticed. Dobby began cleaning up the mess left by the explosion. Severus stepped over the elf to enter his office.

"If I am expected to be with Miss Granger when she awakes, I will have to get some sleep now," he said to himself.

Severus brewed many different varieties of sleeping potions. Picking what he thought was Dreamless Sleep potion, he disappeared into the confines of his private quarters. 


	11. Gabriel & Clara 3

Chapter Eleven

Captain Maddox shifted uncomfortably on the sofa that had been his sickbed for an amount of time that Hermione was unsure of. It was quite difficult for her to keep track of how long he had been in the cabin with Clara. However long it had been, the last few minutes had been tense in the cabin. She assumed that it lasted more than a few minutes for those directly involved. Perhaps a few hours, but surely no more than an entire day.

Clara had only come down once or twice to give the captain a tiny ration of food. She had refused to look upon the face of her patient. Captain Maddox seemed eager to make up for their quarrel, but he respected Clara's space and did not press. It seemed strange to Hermione that in this time period, the woman who looked like her resembled Professor Snape more in her attitude. The dashing, young captain acted much like Hermione. She assumed that it more than likely had something to do with being alone a lot. Professor Snape certainly spent a great amount of time hidden away in the confines of his precious dungeons. Clara had no other option than to keep herself hidden in the dank, ramshackle hunting cabin. If she chose to go out, she might run into more unsavory characters like the Union soldier Miller.

Yes, Clara certainly was nothing like Hermione imagined a young girl in her position and time of life to be like. The Antebellum South had been an era of chivalry, the planters and their ladies fair. Women were expected to behave in a certain way, say the right thing, and do the right thing. Clara was unconventional for her time period. Bitterness and extreme loneliness had turned her into nothing less than a cranky curmudgeon, exactly what Hermione often referred to her potions professor as. She had anticipated her speech to be much gentler than it was in actuality. 

Captain Maddox on the other hand, seemed to fill the role that Hermione expected Clara too. He was placid, too calm for a man that looked like Professor Snape in Hermione's opinion. It was obvious that he too had faced some hardships in his life, but he had been able to bounce back from them faster than Miss Richmond. When Clara would join him in the cellar, he was always quite polite, even when she would say nothing at all or only a word or two. He seemed to genuinely appreciate Clara's nursing and care. Hermione could also tell, but only because she was one herself, that this man was eager, perhaps too eager, to learn everything he could about everything. Clara was obviously the subject he most wanted to know about.

"Miss Richmond, please," Captain Maddox pleaded once Clara began her ascent up the cellar ladder. Stopping in the middle of the ladder, she began to climb back down.

"Yes, Captain Maddox?" Her voice was cold, almost unfeeling. Obviously when someone insulted her or she perceived someone had insulted her, she kept a grudge for a very long time.

"I did not behave the way that I should have earlier," he continued. "I wish to apologize to you for my choice of words."

Clara looked almost… confused by the captain's apology. Slowly, silently, she made her way to a chair next to the sofa. She lowered herself into it calmly without saying a word. Hermione could see the poor captain tense up with nervousness.

"I have been thinking myself, Captain Maddox," Clara began quietly. "It was wrong of me to be upset with you. I do realize that perhaps I am the one at fault here."

Clara's apology, or lack of apology, more how she got around an actual apology was reminiscent of a time back in Hermione's sixth year. During a lesson Professor Snape had assigned a new, fairly difficult potion to his class. Hermione completed it with little or no trouble at all. When he went to examine her potion, he leaned over the cauldron and a small bit of sludge that had stuck itself on the front of his robes after Neville's cauldron exploded its contents over the both of them, slipped off into Hermione's perfect potion. The potion began to sizzle and the cauldron to whistle. Turning an unnatural red from its previous aqua state, the now-altered potion melted through the bottom of Hermione's cauldron. 

"Miss Granger… you're potion… seems to have been altered…" Professor Snape had said to her in short, uneven, but quiet tones. It had seemed to Hermione for a split second that her professor would offer her an unexpected apology. "Perhaps… if Mr. Longbottom would learn to pay attention than the potions of his fellow students would not be affected! Five points from Gryffindor for your mistake, Mr. Longbottom!"

"Thank you, Miss Richmond," the captain replied uncertainly. He remained seated on the couch only a few feet from the young woman.

"I know that I can be quite sensitive at times," she continued. "It is certainly not your fault for this."

"You are an extraordinary young lady, Miss Richmond," Captain Maddox said quietly, almost too quiet for the two girls to hear him.

"May I ask just how you mean that, Captain?" Clara raised an eyebrow at the officer before her. He shifted uncomfortably once more on the couch before he began.

"I have met many young women from your beloved South," he said, uncertainly. "None were like you at all."

"You have not yet answered my question, Captain," she replied.

"I have never met someone, let alone a lady, who has had to suffer with as much as you have." He continued to squirm. "You seem to have… you seem to…"

"Please say what you mean exactly, Captain Maddox," she answered.

"You do not speak as I imagined a young lady in your position would."

"Excuse me?" She raised her eyebrow once more.

"Forgive me for saying this, but you are quite forthright. I have never met a lady, Southern or otherwise, who freely spoke her mind. The way you discussed your father…"

"What about my father?" Her voice was no longer firm and serious. It had softened quite a bit.

"When I asked about the origin of these possessions," He motioned to the furniture around him. "You mentioned your father's experience with the British as a teenager and then you said he was…"

"Crazy?"

Gabriel Maddox cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Well, yes… never once have I heard anyone speak so candidly about a member of their family, especially not their own father."

"One thing I have learned living alone, Captain Maddox, is that there is very little use in being polite and proper at all times."

The officer stared at the young woman strangely. This was certainly a foreign belief on Clara's part.

"I have spent countless hours and days alone with no one to talk to but a half-starved cat," she persisted. "I came to several conclusions about my own family. There is no use in denying that there was something indeed wrong with my father. I loved him make no mistake about that. No one with all of their sense would build a cellar to hide their precious belongings in and then cover it with a run-down shack of a hunting cabin."

Hermione and Captain Maddox seemed to agree with Miss Richmond. While neither said anything, Hermione because she could not be heard, and Captain Maddox because he was polite and well mannered, there was no mistaking the fact that they both believed that the elder Mr. Richmond was not in his right mind before he passed on.

"I see," was all the captain could respond.

_Knock. Knock. KNOCK. KNOCK. Knock._

"Oh, no!" gasped Clara, jumping up quickly from her chair. 

"What is it?" Captain Maddox asked worriedly as he reached for his rifle that Clara had found outside the cabin. 

Clara looked around the small cellar frantically. She began to move some of the smaller pieces of furniture and chests to make room in the back. 

"That is my brother or one of his comrades!" she informed the officer. Realization dawned on his face. 

"Confederates?" 

"Of course!" 

Captain Maddox rose from the couch and moved closer to Clara. 

_Knock. Knock. KNOCK. KNOCK. Knock._

"Quickly, hide back here!" she ordered Gabriel. "Do not make a sound!" 

Gabriel Maddox did as he was instructed. He had improved considerably in the few days that he had been under the care of Miss Richmond, but he was still a bit ill. Carefully positioning himself in an area hardly big enough for him to fit in, he helped Clara move the furniture to cover his hiding place. When she was certain that he could not be seen, she hurried up the ladder to the cabin above. Hermione followed as quickly as she could. 

"Clara, there you are!" sighed a relieved Joshua Richmond. "I was worried sick about you. When you did not answer I feared something had happened to you." 

"I am very sorry, Joshua," she said, trying to hide her flushed features. "I was in the cellar and did not hear you knock the first time." 

Joshua was carrying a small, white bag in his hand. He set it down to embrace his still-shaking sister. 

"Are you all right, Clara?" he asked, stepping back to get a good look at her. 

"Perfectly all right, Joshua," she tried her best to lie. 

"Then why are you shaking? Did something happen?" 

He moved to the trapdoor. When he looked as if he was going to being a descent into the cellar, Clara stopped him by grabbing a hold of his arm. 

"Nothing really," she promised. "I was in the cellar and I found a rat. Nothing more." 

"A rat? A rat scared you that badly?" He seemed unconvinced. 

"I have just been a little jumpy lately. With everything going on around my ears, it is understandable, is it not?" 

"I suppose so." 

Feeling that she had managed to convince her brother, Clara crossed the cabin to retrieve the bag that Joshua had discarded. She picked it up and began to rummage through it. 

"Oh, thank you, Joshua!" she exclaimed when she saw the bag contained fresh provisions for her. 

Hermione watched as the young Mr. Richmond moved closer to the trapdoor. Clara was clearly not paying attention to the swift looks he was taking of the cellar. He obviously felt something was out of place in the order of his sister's cabin. 

"I was almost out of food entirely," Clara said. "If you had not stopped by I might have been forced to eat wild berries and bark from the trees."

Joshua Richmond snapped back into reality. He turned to face his sister.

"It is certainly not much," he replied. "Supplies are difficult to come by these days. I hope it is a sign that the war is nearly over."

"Are you not needed in your regiment? Surely you should be with them instead of with me now."

"I have a few days furlough. Just enough time to make it here and then to a few of the families' in the county. I have been asked to deliver letters."

"Will you be staying here then?" she asked. Hermione could see the glint of worry in Clara's eyes at the prospect.

"I am afraid I cannot."

Relief rushed over her face and she tried to unsuccessfully hide a small sigh.

"In fact I must leave at once."

Joshua closed the rest of the distance to his sister to embrace her once more.

"I must get to Benjamin's plantation. His mother will be expecting me."

"That's all right."

"I do wish that you would take up her offer to stay with her family. This really is no place for a young woman to live."

"As I have told you time and time again, I will be perfectly fine. I will not leave these woods until the Yankees are out of the South completely. Father's last wish was that his prized possessions be spared."

"All right then. I may not be able to return for a few weeks."

"I understand. Be careful."

Joshua leaned down to kiss his sister on the cheek. When he moved towards the door to make his exit, a loud crash from down in the cellar stopped him in his tracks. Turning around abruptly to look on the face of his sister, he saw worry and anxiety pasted all over it. Without a word to her, he crossed over to the trapdoor. Clara held out his arm to stop him, but he pressed on.

"It was only a rat, I'm sure!" she tried to assure him.

Clara and Hermione followed Joshua down the ladder as quickly as they could. Both girls' eyes went straight for the area where both knew Captain Maddox was hiding. Thankfully, he could not be seen. Wherever the crash had taken place was nowhere near him. Joshua, however, did not seem convinced by the rat story. He continued to scan the darkened room for any sign out of the ordinary.

"Please, Joshua," Clara pleaded. "Go on. It was only a rat. I will find it and kill it. You must not keep Benjamin's mother waiting."

Obviously not entirely convinced, Joshua turned his gaze away from the stacked furniture in the back of the cellar. Reluctantly he followed Clara up the ladder. His sister did not notice for she was already above ground, but Hermione saw Joshua's face as he caught sight of Captain Maddox's discarded rifle on the floor and the telltale blue coat of a Union officer. There was no doubt in Hermione's mind that Joshua had seen it and was figuring out what it meant. He said nothing, only followed his sister up and out of her cabin. Hermione felt certain that was not the last time she would see Joshua Richmond. 

_A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than I hoped it would be, but this was the best place I found to end it. I apologize sincerely for the delay in updating. The next chapter should be up in a few days' time._


	12. Gabriel & Clara 4

_A/N: Here is the next chapter as promised! And it was only two days! Wow, there were so many reviews for this last chapter that I could not believe it. Thank you to everyone who took the time to tell me what they think about my story. I love knowing that people enjoy it._

_Before you move on to the story there is something that I must correct. I was reading over the previous chapters and I found a huge mistake! In the first chapter it says that the only time Ron had not played as Keeper was when he was injured after the final battle with Voldemort. Then in another chapter when Severus is getting the burn ointment for Hermione it says that "Voldemort had steadily been gaining power... blah blah." Anyway... Voldemort is gone and dead in this story. He has already been defeated. I meant to make that paragraph say that _when_ Voldemort was gaining power. I will go back eventually and fix it. I just did not want anyone to be confused. So... on to the story!_

Chapter Twelve

Hermione had never been so bored in her entire life. Unaware of how long she had been stuck in the chilly, grubby cellar in the Richmond hunting cabin, she was ready to be back in her beloved Hogwarts. Nothing too exciting had happened while she had been observing the southern lady and the northern officer since the night that Joshua Richmond had arrived unexpectedly on his sister's doorstep. When Hermione saw how Joshua looked at the belongings of Captain Maddox, which neither of them thought in those few moments they were stowing Gabriel away to hide, she assumed that it would only be a day or so before he returned.

"Must have been caught up somewhere," Hermione assured herself. "Either that or he did not believe what he was seeing."

It was no secret that Gabriel Maddox and Clara Richmond were growing closer each day. Watching them slowly creating a friendship and then a mutual interest in each other had been interesting at first to Hermione. After Clara taking too long to open up to the captain it began to get very boring.

"Have you ever been to Ohio?" Gabriel asked of Clara during one of their conversations. 

"No," she answered, not removing her eyes from the embroidery in her hands. "I am afraid Maryland is as far north as I have ever traveled."

"It is beautiful country," he continued. "Perhaps… one day… I could show it to you."

Both Hermione and Clara perked up their eyes at this last comment.

"Show me Ohio?"

His cheeks flushed red, something Hermione never imagined to see across Professor Snape's countenance.

"Forgive me if I was too forward," he said at once.

"Nonsense, Captain," Clara replied, her eyes back once more on her embroidery. I informed you earlier of my distaste of ridiculous formality."

His tense face seemed to loosen with relief.

"Perhaps one day I will visit Ohio," she added, looking up at the captain to allow a small smile.

This seemed to pacify the worried captain. It was obvious that while he cared for this young woman, he was still quite nervous around her. Afraid of insulting her once more or doing something worse to make her angry and upset again. He wanted nothing more than to never see her upset again.

"I believe that although I love the south very much," Clara continued. "I would like very much to see what else this country has to offer. That is, once the war is over."

"It should be any day now," Gabriel agreed. "The Confederate army cannot hold up much longer…"

He stopped abruptly, remembering he was in the presence with a staunch Confederate with kin fighting against him. His words did not faze Clara.

"Yes, I am afraid my fellow countrymen will lose this war," she answered in what sounded to Hermione like a defeated tone. "It is just as well… I am anxious for all of this nasty business to be over with. Wars are not only fought on the battlefield, Captain Maddox, but in the homes of the families as well."

"I will need to be returning to my own troops as soon as possible," Gabriel said in little above a whisper.

Clara stopped moving her hands, dropped her embroidery in her lap and looked up at the man she had come to care about deeply.

"How do you propose on getting back to your troops?" she asked, attempting to sound indifferent to the subject matter.

"I suppose I will have to walk."

"These woods are dangerous for a soldier from the north. Not only are they filled with Confederate stragglers, there are also ordinary farmers and planters who would not think twice about capturing or… killing an officer."

"I fear that is a chance I must take. My men have probably forgotten about me or written me off as dead. I cannot just sit idly by while they risk their lives and fight."

Hermione could feel the tension in the room boil up. Captain Maddox was choosing his words carefully, she could tell. He was thinking each thing he said over in his head before he said them. Miss Richmond was quiet, too quiet.

"I suppose you are correct," Clara finally said. "You will need to get back to your men as soon as possible."

She took her embroidery in her hands and stood up from her seat. Without another word she crossed to the ladder. Captain Maddox rose swiftly from his seat on the couch and took her gently by the arm. Clara stopped moving, and lowered her eyes to avert his intense gaze. 

Hermione was no longer bored. She watched with rapt attention. This was the first time that either of them had so much as touched. Once when their hands brushed against each other as they both reached for a fallen handkerchief, they had both blushed furiously and fell all over themselves to apologize to the other.

Captain Maddox put both hands on Clara's shoulders. When she did not look up at him as he expected her to, he moved his right hand to raise her chin. Brown eyes met black.

"I will not forget you, Miss Richmond," Captain Maddox promised. "When this war is over for good, I will return."

"Ohio?" Clara said in a whisper.

Gabriel smiled at her.

"Of course. I will be back to take you with me to Ohio. You have taken care of me and I pledge to take care of you in return."

He hesitantly leaned down to capture her lips in a tender kiss. Hermione could not prevent a small sigh from escaping her at the sight.

"Does this mean we are…" Clara began, but stopped before she was finished answering her question.

"Engaged?" Gabriel asked expectantly. It was obvious that he was nervous, unsure of what her reaction would be to his proposal.

Clara suddenly found the buttons on the front of her bodice very interesting. She looked down at them and started fidgeting with one uncomfortably, nervously. It was obvious that she was trying to figure out if this was what she really wanted before she said yes. Gabriel found her silence unnerving. He began to shift uncomfortably in his spot.

"I understand if you have to speak with your brother about this," he began. "Seeing as he is now the head of your family."

This was not what Clara expected to hear. She let go of her button and looked Gabriel square in the eye.

"I do not have to ask anyone for permission to do what I want," she stated firmly.

"Then…" Gabriel was still quite nervous. "Does this mean…"

Clara looked up at him and smiled warmly, putting the man at ease.

"Yes, when you return, I will marry you," she answered.

Hermione had never seen such happiness on Professor Snape's face. _Too bad it was not his face at all_, she thought. _It would suit him._

"I am very happy to hear you say that," Gabriel said to his new fiancée.

The captain leaned down to seal the deal with a kiss. Hermione was excited. It seemed that for the first time one of the couples was going to make it. Just as their lips were about to meet for their second kiss…

"Get your filthy hands off of her!" The couple had been joined by none other than Clara's brother, Joshua Richmond. With him he brought three of his fellow Confederates.

What happened next happened so quickly that Hermione hardly had a chance to register in her mind what was going on. First, Gabriel took hold of Clara's arm and tried to move her out of the way of the intruding soldiers.

"No!" Clara jumped back in front of Gabriel when she saw the other men, including her brother, draw their weapons on the captain.

"Clara, get out of the way!" ordered Joshua, his rifle on his shoulder and ready to shoot.

"No, Joshua! Please!" She was screaming, her face red with rage or fear, Hermione was unsure which.

"This why you were so anxious to get me out of here the other night, Clara?!" Joshua was furious. 

Gabriel moved Clara to his side, allowing a direct line of sight to Joshua. Benjamin, one of the other Confederates in the cellar, moved quickly to restrain Clara and pull her away from Gabriel. The captain hardly moved when she was taken.

"So, you're the good captain we were looking for," Joshua spat out. "Gave us quite the slip after the battle. We looked for you for three days. And to think you spent all of that time and more in this cabin with my sister. Did you threaten to kill her if she did not cooperate with you?"

"Not at all," Captain Maddox protested. "Clara took me in of her own free accord."

"Do not say her name!"

"Joshua, please stop!" Clara struggled to get out of Benjamin's grasp.

"Now I understand why you wanted to stay here instead of going to Benji's plantation. This grease bag kept you here."

Joshua moved closer to Gabriel. One of the other men, Hermione was unsure of his name, went behind Gabriel to retrieve his Union army issued rifle. Now Gabriel was standing in the middle of the cellar unarmed with at least three rifles pointed at him.

"There is not a Union solider around for miles," said Joshua, ignoring his sister's repeated protests and shouts for him to leave Captain Maddox alone. "If anything happened to you, I am sure no one would miss you. Obviously your men have not tried to find you."

"If you hurt him, Joshua," Clara said forcefully. "You harm your future brother-in-law."

There was not a word effective enough in Hermione's vocabulary to describe the look on Joshua's face at this stunning revelation. It was a mixture of many emotions, the main being anger.

"Future brother-in-law, huh?" He moved threateningly closer to the captain. "Just couldn't keep your filthy hands off of her? Now you have to marry her?!"

"No, Joshua!" Clara protested. "Nothing like that happened at all."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, sister dear, but I will not allow my kin to marry a dirty Yankee. Especially not a coward."

"The matter is not yours to concern yourself with," Gabriel stated firmly.

"Oh, it's not, is it?" mocked Joshua.

"Clara has made the decision on her own. She does not require you to guide her."

"I am her only family left! She is my sister. I would kill her before I let her marry you," Joshua said as he moved his rifle away from Gabriel and aimed it at a shocked and furious Clara.

"You cannot possibly be serious, Joshua!" shouted Benjamin, who still had a firm hold of Clara.

"If she wants to marry a Yankee, I would rather see her dead!"

Hermione saw Gabriel lunge towards Joshua. Sensing what he was about to do, Joshua turned around just in time to shoot his rifle straight at Gabriel. The captain stopped, and crumpled lifelessly to the floor.

"NO!" shouted Clara, pulling herself out of Benjamin's grasp. She rushed to Gabriel's side. "You will be all right." It was obviously to reassure herself, and not the wounded officer before her.

"I am dying, my love, dying. But I cannot die until I have one more kiss from your lovely lips," Gabriel gasped. 

Clara leaned down and kissed him one last time. Hermione could do nothing to stop the tears that freely fell down her face. The story was tragic. Gabriel and Clara had been in love with each other from the first time they saw each other. It had been blatantly obvious to her. The time they spent together had been short, but meaningful. And now… now to know that Clara's own brother was responsible for Gabriel's death. It was almost too much for Hermione to handle. 

** 

No longer was Hermione in a dark, cramped cellar watching Clara weeping for her slain love. She found herself in the middle of a simple sitting room. Two women she had never seen before dressed in the large skirts of the day sat in separate rocking chairs sewing. They were chatting freely with one another. One woman, the one who seemed to dominate the conversation, was obviously the elder. She had almost completely gray hair. The other was quite young, probably no more than 19 years old. 

"Clara dear, there you are," the elder woman said when Clara entered the room from a side door. 

She had changed since Hermione last saw her. The haunted look of sadness was still there, but Clara did all that she could to hide it. No longer was her face dirty. Her dress was very clean and her hair very tidy. 

"Margaret and I wondered where you had run off to." The woman smiled kindly at Clara, desperately trying to put her at ease. 

"I hope I did not worry you, Mrs. Milton," Clara responded as she took a seat in an empty armchair. There was a basket with knitting on the floor next to her. She picked it up and began working on what looked like socks. 

"Of course not," the younger girl replied. "Mother and I were just anxious for your company. We enjoy having you here with us. Don't we, Mama?" 

Mrs. Milton smiled at each girl in turn. 

"Yes, we do," she answered. "And I am so thankful you finally made up your mind to leave that cabin and stay with us. Benjamin was half-crazed with worry over what might happen to you alone." 

Silence fell over the three women as they returned to their sewing or knitting. Hermione watched Clara's face intently. She was deep in thought, and looked to be upset. _I don't blame her,_ Hermione thought bitterly. 

"Mrs. Milton!" came a shout from outside of the large home. 

Mrs. Milton rose from her seat, placed her sewing on the seat behind her and crossed to the large, front window swiftly. Margaret followed her mother's lead. Hermione rushed to the window to see what all of the commotion was about. Only Clara remained in her seat. 

"Mrs. Milton!" A young boy, probably no more than thirteen was jumping off his horse and running to the open window. 

"Now what is it, Jack?" she asked impatiently of the boy. 

"The war is over!" he shouted. 

"What?" Mrs. Milton seemed all at once thrilled and furious. 

"General Lee surrendered at Appomattox Courthouse. It's all over!" Jack explained. "Mama told me to ride over here straightaway and tell you." 

"Thank you, Jack! Thank your mama for me too." 

"Yes, ma'am." Jack returned to his horse, mounted and took off down the lane. 

Mrs. Milton and Margaret turned to each other. 

"It's finally over!" exclaimed Margaret. "Benjamin will be coming home." 

Mrs. Milton took her daughter into a firm embrace. 

"Yes, he will be. Oh, and Joshua too!" She turned to look at Clara who had begun to silently cry. "No need for those tears, child. It is finally over. Now you and Benji can be married just as you planned before this dreaded war ever began." 

This bit of news shocked Hermione and only caused Clara's tears to fall faster. Clara had planned to marry Benjamin even before she met Captain Maddox? She was confused. Clara stood up abruptly, her knitting crashing to the floor, and turned to run out of the room and out of the house. 

** 

The sun was shining brightly when Hermione opened her eyes after a mere blink. She was standing in an old church graveyard. Little time had seemed to pass. Clara looked exactly the same. She was walking determinedly towards a large monument near the back of the cemetery. When she stopped, Hermione looked at the tombstone Clara had begun to lay flowers at. 

_Captain Gabriel William Maddox_ _1825 – 1864_

"Ohio is beautiful," Clara said aloud to the tombstone. "Just like you said it would be."

Hermione could feel hot tears begin to form in her eyes. Clara had made it to Ohio, but she was alone.

"The war has been over for almost a year now," she continued. "You missed it by only mere months."

Clara had to stop to wipe tears off of her face with her handkerchief.

"I found I could not stay in the land I grew up in. Too many painful memories. Not just of you, but certainly those were strong enough. I could no longer stay with those who had been my family."

She let out a long sigh.

"I told you once that I would love to see what this country has to offer. Well… that is what I am about to do. I have been told Oregon is beautiful country. I have not decided where I will go, but it will be far away from anywhere I have ever been before. I wanted to see… where you lie before I left. To say goodbye for a final time."

**

Once more the scenery around Hermione changed. She was now standing on the banks of a wide, ferocious-looking river. Dozens of covered wagons were waiting in a line for their turn to cross. Hermione watched the wagon that was in the middle of its crossing. Everything seemed to be going quite well until for some reason the entire wagon tipped over onto its side. She heard screams from inside as those within tried frantically to get out.

Men jumped out of their own wagons to rush into the water to save the pioneers. The man driving the wagon was fine. He pulled out a woman whom Hermione assumed to be his wife. More help came to pull out one child, two children, and then finally three children.

"Clara!" shouted the wife of the driver.

Hermione watched as a man pulled the limp form of Clara from out of the water. He rushed to get her to dry land, but he was too late. She was already dead… a victim of the river.

This broke Hermione's already broken heart even more. Clara had suffered so much, accomplished so much only to drown on her way to a new life. There was nothing she could to hold back her tears. They ran freely down her cheeks and threatened to never stop.

==

Severus found his private quarters just as he left them… embarrassingly untidy. There was only one place that he had completely to himself. He placed wards all around his private quarters to keep even the house elves out. While his office and his classroom squeaked with immaculacy, he liked retreating into a dark, messy room.

His mind was still on Herm… Miss Granger's… he had to keep himself from thinking of her too personally… Miss Granger's precarious situation. He blamed himself naturally. She had only been doing what he had asked her to, and he felt that for some reason he had in fact distracted her from her task at hand.

Knowing that even the most potent of sleeping potions could be affected by an anxious, stressful mood, Severus headed straight for his bookcase where he kept a bottle of scotch at all times. When he had imbibed a single glass, as that was all he ever took at one sitting, he uncorked the sleeping potion and took it one long draught. He did not wish to sleep on his bed. It was currently covered in all manner of clothing articles. Instead he lounged himself on the single sofa placed in front of the roaring, magical fire waiting for the potion to take affect.

Severus did not have to wait long. Almost before he had even brought his feet to rest on the sofa, he was already asleep. He slipped into a long, dark tunnel. His breathing became slower and heavier. Just as he was about to slip into the very deepest of sleeps, all at once he felt his entire body tense up. Severus could feel the cogs in his brain working even though he should be fast asleep in a place without dreams. Without warning his brain was flooded with countless bright colors and shapes. He was traveling at warp speed through some kind of vortex.

As quickly as they appeared, the colors and shapes were gone. Severus found himself standing in an empty field of green grass. Looking only yards in front of him, he saw a figure of a young woman standing at the edge of a great body of water. Intrigued, he moved forward to see who this lovely woman was. Feeling his presence, she turned around to face the professor. He felt his heart jump when he realized he was standing with Hermione Granger. Her eyes were puffy and red. Fresh tears were rolling down her cheeks. Finally after what seemed an eternity, she spoke.

"I wondered when I would be seeing you." 


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: My DSL has been down for almost an entire week! I wish to apologize for that delay in updating. It was very frustrating for me as someone who is never very far from their computer. :)_

_First of all, thank you all of my reviewers! Each and every one of your comments made my day! I am very happy that I can write a story that so many enjoy so much._

_Secondly and finally, I am very sorry if I gave the impression that my story was over! It is not by any means. The cliffhanger at the end of Chapter Twelve was not meant to be the end of the story! :) I promise. There is still quite a bit of story left. I hope that this chapter will clear up any confusion that any might have about that. If it makes no sense at all now, I promise it will in the next few chapters. :)_

Chapter Thirteen

"I wondered when I would be seeing you."

Severus was very confused to say the least. He had not expected to fall asleep and find himself with Miss Hermione Granger. He certainly did not expect her to be waiting for him. Curious as to what exactly was happening and feeling that perhaps she might have the answers, Severus opened his mouth to speak. Before a single word left his mouth, he heard…

"Did you expect me to come running after you?" It was a voice that Severus knew all too well. He turned around as quickly as he could, almost tripping himself in the process. Not ten feet away he saw an exact replica of… himself.

"Now just what in the hell is going on?!" He demanded the two beings with him. Neither of them seemed to hear him at all or even notice he was there. Hermione was staring right through him.

"Running after me?" Hermione said incredulously. "No, of course not running. You would never run after me. I believe you have made that quite clear with the actions of your past."

Her words were biting. Even though he was unsure why she was angry or why she was even standing in a misty field alone with himself or whom he assumed was himself, Severus could feel the sting of her words. Very few times in the seven years that he had known the lovely Miss Granger had he seen her lose her temper or show the slightest bit of anger. Whatever 'he' had done to her, she was upset by it.

"I fear I do not quite understand why you are upset with me, Miss Granger," he stated simply.

"Forgive _me, _Professor," she replied bitterly. "But I was not the one who threw such an embarrassing scene in the hospital ward this evening."

"Miss Granger, I do not wish to throw blame around, but you were the one who woke up with outrageous stories."

Severus began to look around at his surroundings. The conversation going on between him and Miss Granger was baffling to say the least. A few moments scanning of the grounds he knew where he was standing… the Hogwarts grounds. The lake they were next to was the same one that the giant squid called its home.

"I was given a gift!" She shouted, breaking the still silence. "I do not understand why or how… but I saw the past. While I was lying there in that hospital bed, when everyone worked around me fearing that I might die… I was reliving the past."

"Yes, I remember that part. Your former lives, was it?" He did not believe Hermione; it was obvious.

"Do not belittle them so!"

"Miss Granger, may I remind you that you are still a Hogwarts student and I am a Hogwarts professor?" Severus raised his own voice. "This is not how you are to treat your teachers."

"Maybe I would be a bit more respectful if you were not acting like a stubborn prat!"

Severus, the Severus speaking with Hermione, moved quickly to take the young woman sharply by the arm. He glared down at her. Any other person, especially a student, in her position would have cowered under his persistent gaze. Hermione did not. She stood up straighter and glared right back at the menacing professor.

"You cannot scare me anymore, _Professor_," she said firmly. "I have seen a side of you, many sides of you that I do not believe even you know of."

He released her arm.

"So, you know me better than I know myself, is that it?"

"Something like that."

"So I am just an open book to be read?" He was still quite angry at the audacity of his almost former student.

"You certainly are not as mysterious to me as you once were. I know now that you are not fearsome, only sad."

"I do not believe that my personal feelings are any of your concern, Miss Granger."

"What happened to you to make you so sad?" She asked quietly, daring to look up at his widened eyes.

"There is nothing about me that you should concern yourself with." 

He obviously did not wish to delve any deeper into the conversation. Looking away from Hermione, he stared off towards the lake, hoping that she might receive the message that he was not interested in talking anymore.

"I wish you could have been there," Hermione said after a few moments of complete silence. "Seen what I saw, heard what I heard, felt what I felt. You would not be so unbelieving now."

Severus stopped shifting in his spot and looked at the young woman. Both he and the Severus, who was only visiting them in some kind of dream, studied Hermione with a newfound curiosity. They each longed to know her secrets and understand what she was saying.

"Perhaps I was too quick to speak earlier in the hospital ward," replied Severus. "Will you explain to me again what you were trying to tell me?"

"And what, subject myself to another humiliating round of you taunting me and disbelieving everything I say?" Hermione almost snorted in derision. "No, _thank you._ I would rather not suffer through that again."

Letting out a long, frustrated sigh, Severus turned his sights toward the gray, misty lake before them. It was a cold evening, unseasonably cold. He shivered involuntarily as a burst of wind crossing the cool lake hit him. They were both silent. Neither seemed to want to say anything to the other, but neither seemed to want to move away either.

"They were all so sad," Hermione said aloud.

"Who, Miss Granger?"

"All of them… Henri, Camille, Isabella, Gabriel… all of them," she sighed.

"And you believe that these… _visions_ you had when you were unconscious were actual people who once lived?"

Hermione glared at her potions professor.

"They _were_ real," she insisted.

"How do you know that they were real?" He was not being difficult, at least he did not feel he was. He simply wanted to know the details.

"Not everything is as simple as black and white," she answered quietly, turning her face away from him. "There are some things that you can just _feel_. I know they were real. I know their stories and their lives really happened. I know that for some reason beyond my understanding, I was given a chance to visit them, to learn first-hand what happened all those years ago to all of those different people."

"You said that… that _I_ was there as well?"

Hermione turned her face back to look at Severus.

"Yes, each time I saw you." She moved to stand in front of him. Looking him straight in the eyes, he felt himself step backwards out of fear or anxiety, he was unsure which. "It was not _you_, I understand that. They were someone you _used_ to be, a long time ago."

"I do not know who I _used_ to be, Miss Granger or even if I believe in past lives. My profession lies in potions. Sibyll Trelawny is the one you would need to speak with about past lives."

Hermione snorted at the mention of Trelawny. Severus managed to hold back the tiniest of smirks. Remembering herself, Hermione shook her head to remind herself of her mission, to persuade Severus to believe.

"They were real, Professor," she proclaimed once more. "As real as we are here today."

"I have no doubt that you believe they were real, Miss Granger… but the fact is," He stopped himself when he saw the scowl on her face directed towards him.

"Is it so difficult for you to believe in this? To believe that our pasts and I believe our futures are closely intertwined?"

"You are my student, Miss Granger," Severus replied. "In only a few days' time you will leave and go to work at the Ministry in London. From that moment on, our time together is over."

"That is where I believe you are mistaken, professor."

Hermione looked once more upon the features of her potions professor for any sign that he believed her, that he did not want their time to be over. When she saw none, she turned away for the last time.

"I wish dearly that you believed me, professor," she said quietly. "But seeing as you do not, then I will respect your wishes. The moment I leave Hogwarts will mark the end. I will move on, and try the best I can to forget what has happened to me in these last few hours."

Severus said nothing to her as he watched his student walk away from him towards the castle. He followed soon after, leaving the other Severus, the dreaming Severus alone by the shores of the lake to think over what had just happened.

==

Albus Dumbledore sunk into the oversized chintz armchair he kept in front of the large fireplace in his office. It had been a long day, and already it was beginning to look like it was going to be an even longer night. He would be expected in the Great Hall for dinner in only a few short minutes.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," came a squeaky voice behind his chair.

Professor Dumbledore smiled and turned around to look upon the house elf that had just Apparated into his office.

"Were you able to fulfill your task, Dobby?" he asked expectantly.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore. Dobby did as Professor Dumbledore asked."

"Excellent. Thank you, Dobby." He stood from his armchair. Before he made his sweeping exit out of the Headmaster's office, Dobby stopped him.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Dobby?" The wizened old wizard smiled down at the nervous house elf.

"Dobby wonders why Professor Dumbledore asked Dobby to switch Professor Snape's sleeping potions with the potions that Professor Dumbledore gave Dobby."

Dumbledore laughed heartily and smiled once more at Dobby.

"One of my more brilliant plans, Dobby, if I may so myself!" He laughed. "You see, Dobby, Miss Granger is in the hospital ward right now."

"Yes, Dobby heard about poor Miss Granger. Dobby hopes Miss Granger will be all right."

"As do I, Dobby, as do I. But you see, Dobby, Miss Granger is on a journey right now, a long and difficult journey."

"But Professor Dumbledore," Dobby interrupted. "Miss Granger is still in the hospital ward. Dobby saw Miss Granger only a few minutes ago."

"Yes, Dobby. Miss Granger's body is lying in the hospital ward right now in a seemingly precarious position," he agreed. "But it is her mind, her spirit that is traveling through time and space. She is reliving some past mistakes that were made. These mistakes involve Professor Snape."

Dobby nodded his head as if he understood what Dumbledore was talking about. It was, in actuality, going straight over his bat-like ears, but he willed Dumbledore to continue.

"I asked Professor Snape to sit with Miss Granger and be there when she awoke from her sleep."

"But Professor Snape was in the dungeons when Dobby was there."

"Yes, I had a feeling that Severus would retreat to the dungeons at the first available moment. But I also knew that he would take an order from the Headmaster, me, very seriously. He _would_ be in the hospital ward when Miss Granger awoke."

Dobby nodded his head once more.

"To prepare for the long night of sitting up in the hospital ward, Severus would decide to take a quick nap in his quarters. Because he would be as alert as ever, he would need to take a sleeping potion to fulfill his need for a nap." Dumbledore paused to laugh again. "And that is why I asked you Dobby to take the vials of Dreaming Potions that I transfigured to look like Dreamless Sleep Potions. When poor Severus took the potion he was actually securing himself forty winks worth of dreams."

"Dobby does not understand why Professor Snape has to dream."

"It is very complicated, Dobby, and I cannot share all of the details with you, but I will tell you one thing, Severus will be dreaming of what his life would be like if he chooses to not believe what Miss Granger has to tell him when she wakes up. Life will not be very happy for him without her, Dobby. They need each other. Their paths were meant to cross."

"Professor Snape will see how sad Professor Snape would be without Miss Granger?"

"Precisely."

"Can Dobby ask how Professor Dumbledore will make Professor Snape dream about life without Miss Granger?"

Dumbledore laughed.

"That is one of my many secrets, Dobby. I am afraid I cannot share yet."

"Can Dobby ask why Professor Snape and Miss Granger being happy together is so important to Professor Dumbledore?"

"Alas, Dobby, that I cannot say either. I have many secrets, but it will only be a matter of time before all of my secrets come out into the open. I will say one thing in response to your question, Dobby. The future happiness of Professor Snape and Miss Granger affects me quite personally. It also affects someone who is very dear to me."

"Can Dobby…"

Professor Dumbledore raised a gentle hand to stop the house elf.

"All secrets will be revealed in time, Dobby."


	14. James & Isabella 1

A/N: I apologize for taking so long to get this chapter up. This is one of the chapters that I really wanted to perfect before I posted, as it happens to have a personal meaning in it for me. This next 'lifetime' of Hermione and Severus' is one that I have been excited to write for a long time, and had to force myself through the others to get here. J These next few chapters might seem strange to many of you, but I will personally guarantee the authenticity of them. I am basing them after true events that happened in my hometown in rural West Texas. The events are historically accurate. The individual characters, however, are based on the dozens of legends that run rampant through our town. There is no evidence that any of these particular people existed, only speculation and the 'eyewitness' accounts of those who have claimed to have seen them over a century after their deaths. At the end of the last Texas chapter I will explain in more detail the legends just to clear up any confusion. I cannot do it here however, because it would ruin the surprise! Forgive my long-winded note and enjoy the next chapter. - Lila

Chapter Fourteen

With hardly a moment to wipe the freely flowing tears off of her face, Hermione found herself in an entirely different place. The air was warmer, the chill she felt standing next to the raging river was gone. In fact, as the young witch looked around she saw no water at all. There had been tall, green grass along the banks of the river that claimed Clara's life, but the tall grass surrounding Hermione was yellow in color. She had been in the midst of a hilly meadow. The new place was flat, boasting of no hills. The only apparent beauty Hermione saw was the big, open blue sky.

"I do not know how much more of this I can take," she said to herself for at least the third time that day.

There was an odd kind of beauty to the new land, she thought. Upon first glance it looked barren, eerily empty. The unsettling songs of the unfamiliar birds were quite frightening. A slight breeze blew through her already unkempt hair. Everything about this land seemed strange, even hostile.

Hermione took a deep breath to calm her anxious nerves.

"Nothing can hurt you here," she reminded herself. "You are simply a visitor."

A dull hum of movement in the distance wafted over to her on the wind. Far away in the vast expanse of land she saw tiny, moving dots approaching her. Feeling a wave of excited and nervous anticipation, Hermione waited for the specks on the horizon to move closer. They were several hundred yards away when she realized at once what she was seeing: covered wagons, at least forty wagons in all.

"Please let this end in happiness," she said quietly, secretly knowing if the events had ended in happiness, she would not be there to witness them.

"Whoa there," a man in the front wagon said to his horses, as he was just shy of passing Hermione. "Hey, Callahan!" He was shouting to the wagon nearest his. "I think we will camp here tonight."

Hermione could scarcely remember a time where she had been more fascinated. This seemed to even rival her first trip to Diagon Alley over seven years prior. Each of the forty wagons stopped around each other to form a kind of crude circle. Within moments a bustle of activity she had certainly never seen before went on around her. Each wagon emptied itself of its passengers as they each went about performing their chores to make camp for the evening.

She watched with rapt attention as the men fed the animals and the women prepared to cook the evening meal. Children of all ages, shapes and sizes went about helping their parents in whatever way necessary. The youngest and tiniest children were dragged around by their older siblings who were responsible for caring for them.

"Margaret," a tired-looking woman at a nearby cook stove said to a young girl. "Watch little Joshua. He keeps running away from me. The last thing we need is for him to get himself bitten by a rattlesnake."

"Yes, Ma," Margaret said to her mother before running to chase after an adorable, chubby-cheeked toddler.

The preparations of the individual campsites were fascinating, but Hermione did not forget what had happened in each of her other trips to the past. She quickly left the side of Margaret and Joshua's mother to find a familiar face in the crowd of pioneers.

Many of the families were already sitting down to wait for their supper by the time Hermione found the person she was looking for. Dressed in a simple calico dress and donning a smudged white apron, Hermione found herself.

The young woman in calico was bent over her own camp cook stove. She had a fierce, determined look on her face as she pushed what looked like salt pork around the pan. Her own bushy hair was coming out of the loose knot tied at the nape of her neck. A colorful bonnet hung down her back. By the look of her tanned, freckled face, it was obvious that she did not care to wear her bonnet properly.

"All right," the woman said aloud to herself. She apparently had the same bad habit of speaking to herself as Hermione. "I just need to let this cook for a few more minutes."

"Isabella," Another young woman joined Hermione's look-alike by the fire. She had clutched in her hand an old, tattered book. "I found the book I was telling you about yesterday. Arthur had it packed away in the back of the wagon."

Isabella, Hermione assumed it was her, dropped her cooking fork in the pan with a Clang! She stood to face her friend. Her eyes went immediately to the volume in her hands. While it was extremely old it seemed and had gone through its fair share of hands, Isabella looked at it as if it was pure gold.

"Thank you, Helen," Isabella said as she graciously accepted the book in Helen's outstretched hand. "I fear I have already exhausted both mine and James' libraries. We had to leave so many books behind. I miss them so."

Helen looked at Isabella with an amused look, but the look left her face almost as quickly as it came. She apparently understood her friend's love for books. Isabella seemed already to be much like Hermione.

"Hopefully it will not be long before we are each on our homesteads, and we can fill our houses with the things we love once more," replied Helen.

Isabella took her eyes from the borrowed book to smile up at Helen.

"James says it will only be a matter of days before we are finally on our new land," Isabella added.

"I never dreamed Texas would be so large," Helen admitted. "I imagined Arthur was simply pulling my leg about its size."

"Back in Austin I told James that I would be happy to settle right there, but he said the best land was over three hundred miles west in the panhandle of Texas. I had no conception of what a panhandle was. I am still not entirely sure that I do even now."

Both women let out a small chuckle.

"Men and their talk of land," laughed Helen. "Certainly I expected a more beautiful country. Nothing but sky and dirt here it seems."

Isabella looked affronted at the words from her friend's mouth.

"Surely you cannot be serious, Helen," she replied. "There is a great deal of beauty to this land. I can already see what James meant when he first said he wanted us to move out here."

"Perhaps I would be able to see the beauty if I was just a bit more idealistic," Helen answered kindly. "If you will excuse me, I left the girls with Mrs. Callahan's eldest daughter. Surely she will be happy to have me take them back."

"Thank you for the book, Helen," Isabella said once more. "It will be so nice to have something new to read tomorrow."

Helen smiled at her friend and headed off in the direction of her own wagon. Opening the book carefully to the first page, Isabella lowered herself into a chair next to the fire to begin reading.

"She does remember that she is cooking, does she not?" Hermione was looking at the pan of fried pork that had begun to smoke.

Almost as if Isabella could hear Hermione, she jumped up quickly, dropping the book to the ground.

"Oh, no!" she cried, using her apron to pull the pan off the fire. "Not again!"

There was a small table with two tin plates next to her. She thrust the pan with the burnt meat onto the slab table. Isabella looked down at her burnt meal. A sigh she could not suppress escaped from her.

"Is something wrong?" A soft, but deep voice sounded behind her.

"I burned it again!" Tears began to fall down Isabella's cheeks. The man behind her put his arms around her, and pulled her to his chest.

Hermione knew eventually that a man looking like Professor Snape would make his appearance. When he actually did, she was no less than shocked at what she saw. She was used to seeing Severus Snape as a lean, sallow man with long, greasy locks. This man, without a doubt, shared his face, but was very different. He was muscular, even more so than Severus. His skin was tanned a golden brown, obviously due to the countless hours spent in the sun driving his wagon. He kept his hair cut short, and his clothes consisted of light brown pants and a dingy white shirt. His face also seemed softer and younger.

"I am sure it will be fine," he assured Isabella. He looked down at the pan without her knowledge, and pulled a face when he saw its contents. "Come on, stop crying. It will get cold."

"You deserve a better wife than me, James," Isabella cried into his shoulder.

This last statement of Isabella's took Hermione aback. _They were married?_ She said to herself. _Perhaps I was wrong. If they were married, maybe nothing bad would happen to them._

"Don't ever say that again, Belle," he admonished her gently. "You are more than I could have ever hoped for in a wife."

Isabella pried herself away from James' calming shoulder. She looked up at him, her face streaked with tears, and smiled. Almost instantly her smile faded into a frown.

"I cannot even do something as simple as cook!" she cried, before reclaiming her place on his shoulder once more.

James was different from Severus Snape. At least, Hermione assumed he was. While she had never seen him be anything but nasty to any and every person he met, she still believed that there was a gentle side to her potions professor. James showed immense amounts of concern and patience for his young wife. After a closer inspection of the man standing before her, Hermione could tell that James was several years younger than her professor. He was hardly more than twenty, and Isabella was probably only seventeen. This seemed to be the man that Severus Snape could have been had he not been faced with such tribulations as a young wizard.

"It will just take some time for you to get used to cooking," he reminded her. "My pa said that he ate burnt meals the first year of his marriage. We've only been married five months."

"I wasn't paying attention," she admitted, pulling herself away from him once more. "Helen came over to lend me a book. I forgot about the supper and started reading."

"I had a feeling it was something like that," he chuckled. "My little know-it-all."

Isabella smiled at him before playfully swatting him on the arm with her hand. She used the corner of her apron to wipe her face. James took a seat in one of the chairs at the table. Isabella reluctantly served the almost completely black meat. Her young husband looked down at it with the same look of fierce determination that Hermione had seen on Isabella's face before he began to eat.

The scene had changed only slightly when Hermione opened her eyes from a blink. It was dark. Most of the campfires had dwindled to simple embers. Save for a few men walking around with rifles, the wagon train's guards, everyone in the large camp seemed to be in bed already. There were sounds of snores coming from wagons and campsites all around the circle. Hermione could hear soft talking coming out of James and Isabella's wagon. Feeling strange about eavesdropping, but nevertheless determining herself to find out what was going on, she moved to stand beside a small ventilation gap in the wagon covering.

"How far away are we from our new home?" asked Isabella in a quiet voice so as not to disturb her neighbors.

"I reckon it's probably only five or six days, if we meet good weather, that is," James answered.

"I cannot believe we are that close. No one believed we would make it this far. My parents are still expecting us to stop and head back to Kentucky."

"They will be sorely mistaken," he replied. "We are not leaving. Texas is our new home. There is not a lot a man can do in Kentucky, but here… here there are millions of acres just waiting for someone to farm."

"What about the Indians?" Hermione could sense the fear in Isabella's voice.

"Don't worry about them. The army is going to make certain that the white settlers are perfectly safe from the savages."

"I've heard awful things from some of the other ladies. They say that the Comanches and Apaches like to attack wagon trains, murder all of the men, and steal the women and children…"

"Shh… don't listen to that kind of talk. Nothing is going to happen to you. I won't allow it."

The howl of a distant coyote made Hermione jump. Even knowing that she could not be harmed the nighttime sounds of the Texas plains were frightening to her. She turned to look in the direction of the coyote, but before she saw anything… it was morning.

"We are just going to go hunting for a couple of hours," James informed Isabella as she cleared away the breakfast dishes. "We will be back before nine, I promise."

"All right," Isabella sighed. "It will give me some time to do a few things before we start again."

"Promise me you will be careful," he said, as he kissed her on the cheek. "You have a tendency to be too adventurous and get yourself into trouble."

"I promise," she replied, the tiniest bit of a smile on her face. "I don't _always_ get into trouble."

"Of course not." He winked at her, picked up his rifle, and followed a group of men towards the hunting grounds.

Isabella had hardly finished washing the dishes and putting them away when Helen stopped by. She had with her two little girls around the age of five. They were twin girls, identical if Hermione was not mistaken. Each had their blond hair in ringlets. All three carried baskets of linens with them.

"The girls and I are going to do some washing. Mrs. Callahan said her husband found a stream not far from here. A few of the ladies are going. Would you like to join us?" asked Helen.

"Yes, I would," Isabella answered. She disappeared inside of the wagon, and came back out with a basket full of clothes and linens to wash. "I have been hoping to get some wash done."

The stream in question was located no more than a mile or two away from the wagons. In total there were about twenty women and twelve children who made the trek to do their washing or to fill up their canteens. Hermione found herself enjoying being around the women as they crouched on the banks of the stream to wash their clothes. Helen proved to be the person everyone went to for the latest gossip. She shared countless stories about the women and men in the train that had not accompanied them to the stream.

"Alice said that she saw someone coming out of that bachelor Jackson's wagon a few nights ago…" Helen was regaling the group with one of her many tidbits of juicy gossip when children all around them started to scream.

All of the women, including Hermione, jumped up from the banks of the stream to see what has going on. At least a dozen Comanche Indians had appeared almost out of thin air on horseback. They were riding around the congregation of women and children with menacing looks on their faces. Without warning some of them began to snatch up the women and children and ride off with them lying across their horses.

"Mama!" screamed one of Helen's daughters. She had been running towards her mother when she was yanked off the ground and thrown across one of the bare backs of the horses. Helen ran towards her daughter, but was grabbed herself by another.

Most of the women and children that had not been grabbed by the Indians were running as fast as they could towards the wagon train. Hermione searched around frantically for Isabella. She was not running with the others. She was standing frozen in the same place she had been when the commotion began. Her fear kept her from moving.

"Run!" Hermione found herself yelling at her likeness.

When Isabella was finally able to move her legs and run after the other settlers, the last Comanche without a prisoner rode towards her. Within mere moments she was off the ground and on the back of the horse. Knowing she could do nothing, Hermione was forced to watch as Isabella was taken into the unknown.


	15. Severus, Severus & Hermione

Chapter Fifteen

Severus found himself moving reluctantly through the misty Hogwarts' grounds towards the Entrance Hall. The air was unseasonably cold. His breath rose around him in puffs of white vapor. As he crossed the threshold into the hall, his body shook involuntarily with a sudden chill. The air was not the only cold he found himself faced with. For a reason unknown to him the atmosphere in the hall felt strange, almost hostile.

"What are you doing here, Hermione?"

He moved to the corner of the hall where he heard the exasperated, feminine voice. It was to his surprise that he found an altered Hermione Granger. She was older it was obvious. Exactly how many years older, Severus was unsure. He estimated she was more than likely ten years older that she had been when he last saw her arguing with his likeness next to the lake. She had cut her hair he was pleased to see. No longer bushy and hanging down to her waist, her sleek brown locks were straightened to brush just past her chin. Miss Granger was no longer confined to the drab uniform of a Hogwarts student. She was dressed in sophisticated, but simple in design, dark blue robes.

"What the hell is going on here?!" Severus demanded for at least the third time since he found himself in what appeared to be an alternate universe. No one heard him of course.

"This was a mistake," the older version of Hermione said aloud to herself. "I never should have come back here."

She moved from the corner of the room she had been hiding in. Pressing on towards the rest of the room, she passed through the non-corporeal form of her former professor before he had a chance to move out of the way. They both felt the cold, prickling sensation of moving through a spirit. Severus had yet to feel the sensation with the exception of the time the Bloody Baron had surprised him in the dungeons. They both shivered unwillingly.

"What was that?" Hermione asked herself quietly. She was looking in Severus' direction, but could see nothing.

"Seeing visions again, are we?" A cool, familiar baritone echoed through the almost empty hall.

Obviously not expecting to run into her old professor alone in the entrance hall, Hermione jumped at the sound of his voice. Her face was turned away from the Severus standing in the Hall with her, but visible to the visiting Severus. He saw the look of fear, anger, and regret mixed into one of her face. Silently steadying herself, Hermione calmly turned a few moments later to meet her accuser face-to-face.

"I assumed you would already be in the Great Hall for the feast, Professor," Hermione answered almost serenely, not giving away the fear and nervousness that had obviously been on her face moments earlier.

"I would have been, but I have already been forced to take House Points away from Gryffindor and assign one of its fine house members a particularly nasty detention with Mr. Filch." There was a definite change to Severus Snape in the ten years or so that had passed. While he had always been sardonic to the point of cruelty, he was somewhat colder and distant. Something had obviously occurred to make him even bitterer than he already was.

"If you will excuse me, Professor," Hermione continued. "I must go into the Great Hall and join the feast. Come if you must."

Hermione had changed as well. For the first time Severus noticed the tired lines across her young face. No longer was she the insipid Know-it-all of her youth; she had become an embittered, cynical woman.

"There was a time when you wished to be in my presence," Severus crossed to stand before her in an almost cat-like movement. He stood so close to her, she found herself shifting uncomfortably.

"Excuse me, professor." Her voice was not as calm as it had been moments earlier.

"Of course, Miss Granger." He stepped away from her to grant her passage to the door to the Great Hall.

She moved rapidly towards the door. Halfway to the door, she stopped and turned to face the smirking professor once more.

"It is Professor _Haversham_," she corrected. "If you wish to address me again, you will address me as Professor Haversham or if you so wish, Hermione. I have not been Miss Granger for eight years, and will not be now."

"Yes, _Professor_ Haversham," he replied mockingly.

Feeling she had adequately made her point, she turned on her heel and disappeared within the Great Hall. Both of the Severus Snapes watched her go with great interest. The dreaming Severus watched her with a newfound respect. She had taken up for herself and faced the one person she had no desire to ever see. That took extreme courage. The future Severus looked as if she was a mere bug waiting to be squished beneath his shoe. Smirking to himself, the future Severus followed Hermione into the Great Hall.

The events that had transpired before the visiting Severus had been so strange and happened so quickly that he struggled to understand what he had just witnessed. Before he had a chance to let it all sink in, the room began to spin ever so slightly. When it stopped he found himself in an almost empty staff room. Sunlight bathed the dusty, old furniture and the few early morning inhabitants.

"Good morning, Hermione," greeted a worn-looking Remus Lupin who had just entered the room.

"Remus!" Hermione jumped from her armchair and threw her arms around the werewolf's neck. Severus found himself against his will feeling a pang of jealousy at this display of affection. "When did you arrive?"

"Only a few moments ago," Lupin answered, hugging the young woman in return. "Professor Dumbledore told me about your appointment as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I had no idea you left the Ministry."

"It has been awhile since we last spoke," she stepped away from him with a pensive look on her face.

"It is completely understandable."

There was an awkward silence between the two of them before Lupin finally spoke again.

"Grant was a great wizard. He will certainly be missed by us all."

Hermione quickly wiped a stray tear from her face. She looked up to give Lupin a smile.

"Thank you, Remus." She sighed quietly. "Hard to believe it has been over a year… let us not talk about this. Tell me… what brings you to Hogwarts anyway?"

"Just some business with Dumbledore. Nothing exciting really."

"How is Harry? I haven't seen him in ages."

Severus only half-listened to their conversation. Potter had apparently gone on to marry the youngest Weasley and have their own passel of arrogant brats. No doubt soon, he, or rather the future Severus would have a third generation of Potters to deal with. Reflexively, Severus cringed at the thought of even more Potters.

"I must reluctantly leave you to your classes," Lupin finally said after several minutes of catching up with Hermione. "Be wary though… I heard Malfoy's eldest is a first year."

Lupin chuckled at the sight of exasperation on Hermione's face.

"Let us hope he is easier to manage than his father," Hermione replied.

"He won't be." Lupin leaned down to kiss Hermione's cheek before he left the staff room.

Hermione gathered up her books and parchment she had strewn about a nearby table. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out into the corridor that would no doubt lead her to her first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. _Strange_, Severus thought. _That she would become the new professor. Why in ten years have I not gotten it?_

He looked up just in time to see the future Severus emerge out of the only shadows in the room. While he was not certain, the visiting Severus thought that the other had been hiding and listening to Lupin and Hermione's conversation. Certainly he did not look pleased and a little annoyed. Swishing his long black robes, he made a swift exit out of the door. Was he going to follow Hermione to the DADA classroom? Or was he going to sulk down into the dungeons? Severus did not know.

He was most interested in the person that he was in this dream. While he knew that no one would ever consider him friendly or even perhaps a bit likeable, he found himself loathing the man that shared his face. He was angry, that was certain. What was he angry about? What had happened to him? Surely it could not have been worse than being in the service of the Dark Lord? Severus was determined to find out. He swished his own black robes to make his own exit out of the staff room. Before he even had a chance to get to the door…

He was in the dungeons. It was almost impossible to discern what time of day it was while in the dungeons. The only windows existed in his office and even those were heavily leaded. Light's only source were the dozens of lit torches that hung along the walls of the dungeon catacombs. Nothing seemed different about the dark, creepy place Severus had called his home for over sixteen years. His feet carried him to his classroom for a reason he was unsure of. Perhaps it was only a coincidence, but he had a feeling that there was more to it than that.

"Scrub every cauldron in this room… without magic!" Future Severus hissed at a young girl who was probably no older than second year. 

He immediately went through the door that led to his storeroom. Dreaming Severus followed him.

"Every year it is the exact same!" complained Severus. "They are all the same… ignorant… a complete waste of my time. I have more important things to do than to teach a bunch of dunderheads."

Future Severus took a bottle of fire whiskey off of one of the back shelves in the storeroom. Once he had poured himself a liberal glass, he imbibed it in one swill. He pounded the empty glass on a table and sighed.

"And now… _she's_ back. I thought I had seen the last of her eleven years ago."

A box hidden in the corner of the storeroom caught the dreaming Severus' eye. He waited until the other Severus had left the room to yell at the poor second year before he crouched down to examine the contents of the box. At least three-dozen old _Daily Prophets_ were stacked inside. Gingerly he pulled them out to ascertain why _he_ would save old newspapers. 

Flipping through the first few pages of the first newspaper, skipping over lines about the newest Minister of Magic, he found a single article that had been earmarked.

"'_Potions Mistress Hermione Granger Discovers Potion to Cure Baldness'_" Severus could hardly believe what he was seeing. "Immense talent like hers and she wastes it on discovering a cure to _baldness_?"

But there were more.

"'_Hermione Granger Creates New Line of Beautifying Potions'" _

_"'Granger, Inc. Named Most Successful Start-up Business of the Year by Chamber of Wizarding Commerce'" _

The newspapers each contained at least one story about Hermione over the course of the last ten years. One particular headline caught Severus' attention immediately.

"'World-Renowned Ministry of Magic Potions Mistress to Wed Son of Minister of Magic'"

_"'Grant and Hermione Haversham Welcome Newest Haversham'" _

There were several articles about the young couple. Hermione had met Grant Haversham while working at the Ministry of Magic. He was visiting his father one day and the Minister himself introduced them. Two years later they were married in a grand-scale wedding with over five hundred guests in attendance. The society pages were full of stories about their lives, their parties, and their friends. From the pictures accompanying the articles, Severus could tell that they were blissfully happy. She had apparently gotten over the pain he had caused that night by the lake. She had moved on, and found herself a wonderfully wealthy, handsome husband. 

It was against his will that he felt his stomach twist and turn into knots at the thought of Hermione being happy with someone else.

"Stop it!" he scolded himself. He was being silly, he believed. Even in the world outside of dreams he hardly knew Hermione. He did not know what she wanted in life, what she wanted in love. He certainly would have never offered himself to such a beautiful, young creature. But it was while looking through these articles depicting Hermione, _his_ Hermione, as the dutiful wife of Grant Haversham, that he felt nauseous. 

_No wonder the future Severus was so unhappy_, he thought. _He… I let her get away._

"Stop!" he said again. "This is crazy. This is absolutely ridiculous. None of this is real, Severus. This is simply a figment of your imagination. This is all a dream, some sick… terrible dream. You will wake up from this and everything will be as it once was."

A knowing feeling inside of him told him that it would not be all right. Desperately trying not to give into those thoughts again, he continued looking through the stack of newspapers. The very last newspaper, the one that was placed on the very bottom of the stack shocked him the most.

_"'Accident Takes Lives of Grant and Ryan Haversham'" _

An explosion in the Haversham Manor killed both Hermione's husband and her five-year-old son. The cause of the explosion was unknown, but it did not appear to be suspicious. The Ministry of Magic called it 'an accidental magical explosion'. There had been no clues to cause them to believe foul play was involved.

"I don't want to be here anymore," he whispered to himself. The thought of knowing Hermione was grieving for her husband and son was worse than knowing she had been happy with her family. Severus found himself feeling emotions towards Hermione that he believed he never should feel.

===

"How is she, Poppy?" Albus Dumbledore asked the exhausted mediwitch. She was changing Hermione's bandages.

"Better, much better," she answered. "She is not out of the woods yet, but she is certainly doing better than I expected."

Immediately Poppy wished she had not said what she had. She looked up at Albus almost as if to say, "I should not have said that." He simply nodded his head and gave her a half-smile. Certainly he had not been entirely sure that Miss Granger would be all right.

"She is a strong young woman, though," Poppy continued. "Most would not have been able to survive an explosion like that. Already she has beaten the odds and surpassed any expectations we had… I only hope that she does not give up now."

Albus laid a reassuring hand on Poppy's sagging shoulder.

"I have not doubt that Miss Granger will make it through, Poppy," he said quite confidently. "She has too much to live for now." 

_A/N: And now for some bad news... I am going to warn now that updates might not happen for a while after this last chapter. These next couple of weeks are going to be crazy for me. Moving, University, and lots of other stuff is going on. I certainly will try my hardest to update as soon as possible, but my schoolwork comes first. :) I made that mistake last semester and paid dearly for it. But don't worry, I will try as hard as I can._

_And now for some shameless plugging... I have another Severus story that I am working on. If you enjoy my style of writing, I highly recommend reading 'Almost Goodbye'. That is my personal favorite story so updates are usually more frequent. Anyway... read it or don't. I thought I would advertise anyway. :)_


	16. James & Isabella 2

Chapter Sixteen

James and the rest of the men who had gone hunting entered the chaotic camp at first calm, regaling each other with the stories of the game they had killed or gotten close to killing. They each seemed content with their morning of hunting in the West Texas plains. Only one man towards the back of the group of hunters seemed upset. He kicked at a rock, cursing himself for not being able to bring anything back with him.

"It is not all that bad, George," James encouraged his friend with a clap on the back. "Those rabbits can be awfully slippery to catch."

Hermione was shocked by the relative calmness that these men felt. Could they not hear the frantic screams and shouts from the camp? She turned to look at the frenzied site only a hundred yards away from her. No one seemed to be sitting still. Even the very old were moving around, doing what, Hermione was unsure.

"Pa! Pa!" A young man about sixteen ran towards the small group of men returning from the hunting grounds.

"What is it, Eddie," a worn looking man just behind James asked the youth.

"Injuns, Pa! They attacked the women near the stream when they's doing their washin'. Purty near a dozen women and children were taken by them savages."

The once calm group of men became decidedly less so. Looking in the direction of the man with her professor's features, Hermione saw the fearful look cross James' face. He remembered the conversation he had had with his wife only the evening before. He had promised her that nothing would happen to her, he would protect her. Fearing the worst, he took off towards his wagon in a fast run. The other men followed his lead.

"Belle!" James searched the area inside around his wagon frantically, crying out his wife's name every few seconds. "Belle!"

"James…" A stern, but gentle voice sounded behind him. 

James stopped at the sound of this authoritative voice. His shoulders, which had been tense, sagged involuntarily. His face spoke volumes about how he felt inside. 

"She was taken," the man continued. "We do not know what happened to them once they were taken, but we will find them."

James turned around to come face-to-face with the man. Hermione did not recognize him. She had never seen him before in this lifetime. It was obvious, however, that James respected and admired the man before him.

"What about your family, Arthur?" James asked timidly.

Arthur flinched at the question. He, too, was excruciatingly worried about the lives and virtues of the women.

"Helen and both Mary and Maggie were taken."  
James' face became a stoic mask, much the same as Professor Snape's.

"What are we to do then?" Hermione shivered much to her surprise at the iciness she heard in James' voice. While it was certainly easy to discern his Kentucky accent, she was reminded of the silky coolness of Severus Snape's own voice. Despite being a loving and caring husband to Isabella, Hermione felt positive that James was not a man one would want to cross.

**

Isabella looked as if she were going to be sick. She was seated on top of the horse belonging to her captor. He was seated directly behind her. The large group of Comanche Indians and their screaming captives on horseback were a sight to see. There was hitting and biting aplenty from the women and children. Each of the subjugators merely swatted at them like pesky flies. 

While most of the women and children were screaming or crying, Hermione was surprised to see that Isabella was doing neither. Her face was like an impassive, clear mask, not displaying any of the fear and anxiety she was most certainly feeling. She looked as if she was floating through a dream, that none of what was happening around her was indeed happening.

**

The Comanches stopped their horses at the edge of a large canyon. Hermione was surprised to see such a drastic change in the landscape of the country. Before all of the land had been flat, dry and yellow. This canyon teemed with life that she did not know the West Texas plains possessed. There was a lake in the bottom of the canyon. Green trees and green grass dotted the setting. A lush, green meadow surrounded one entire side of the lake. Tiny islands, hardly big enough for a few people to stand on, sat in the middle of the clear lake. The entire scene was breath taking.

Once Hermione finished gawking at the so not-like West Texas setting, she saw the Indians had begun a descent into the canyon below. A crude trail, no more than a path really, led to a cacti and yucca plant infested grassy area. They were taking their prisoners down into the depths of the canyon.

**

"James, calm down," Arthur ordered the young man on the horse next to him. "We will find them. Everything will be all right."

Calm was the furthest thing to describe James' mood. He shifted nervously around on the saddle of his horse. Waves of anxiety, fear, and anger radiated from him. Hermione found herself shivering again upon seeing the cold, fierce look that James shot towards Arthur.

"I promised her I would not let anything happen to her," James said quietly to Arthur.

"And nothing will." Arthur seemed to Hermione to be trying to convince himself of that fact. He was calm, but she wondered how in the world he could be. His wife and his two daughters had been kidnapped, taken away to goodness knows where. She felt certain that he did not want to say anything that would make the situation any more real than it already was. Deep down Arthur had to convince himself that everything would turn out for the best.

Hermione had a hard time believing that it would. She had already seen enough in the past lives to know that happiness was not always something that everyone found. Before she had always taken for granted that she would have a future chock full of happiness and love. She would finish her schooling, take a high-profile job at the Ministry, fall in love, marry, have children and never once have to worry about bad things happening in her life.

Voldemort was gone. He had been defeated once and for all. Harry Potter had seen to that only a few months earlier. The wizarding world could once again breathe easy. There was little fear that he would ever return. Life it seemed would be happy for all. Hermione had not once even questioned that anything would happen to ruin her view of her future. But after seeing blissful and in love couples fall apart and die in desperately tragic circumstances… She was not so sure anymore.

"I promised I would not let anything happen to her," James muttered to himself. "And I will be damned if I go back on my promise now!"

He kicked the sides of his horse with perhaps a bit too much force. Both horse and rider shot off towards the horizon, towards the unknown.

**

The women and children nestled together next to a small brook hidden in the back of the canyon. It had been a long, hard ride to their new 'home' and their exhaustion showed on each of their faces. The copper and orange sun began to sink behind the horizon far above the canyon. A large tree with outstretched branches provided a bit of shelter to the frightened captives.

Isabella had not changed from the moment Hermione last saw her seated on the horse. Her face was the same expressionless mask. The women around her were speaking quietly to each other, but she said nothing. Helen held her two twin girls around her and tried to calm their sobbing. No one knew what was going to happen to them. They were all very scared.

"What is going to happen to us, Momma?" one of Helen's girls asked.

"I don't know, Maggie," she whispered.

"I want Daddy," cried little Mary.

"I know you do, precious."

One of the Comanche Indians, the one who had taken Isabella, stood before the assembled group. He had an air of great authority about him. It was obvious that he was in charge. He ordered some of his men to give the women and children food and water before he turned to disappear into the trees.

Time had passed when Hermione turned to look back at the captives. How much time she was unsure. Every one of them was even more tired and haggard than they were before. Their clothes were filthy, some were ripped in places. A few of the women were sporting bruises on their arms and one of her face. It was obvious that they were not treating them kindly.

Isabella was seated by the banks of the small creek holding one of Helen's twins in her arms. The young girl was fast asleep. Isabella seemed to have come to terms with what had happened to her. She no longer wore an emotionless mask. Her face was smudged with dirt and she was pale, but nothing about her seemed hurt. She quietly rocked the little girl in her arms.

"Isabella," whispered Helen, who was seated next to her cradling her other daughter.

"What is it?" Isabella asked in a tired voice.

"I was just talking to some of the other women. They want to make a run for it."

Isabella turned to look sharply at her friend.

"Run for it?" she asked.

"Yes, they want to try to run away."

"How do you expect to do that?" She sounded skeptical.

"They only leave us with one guard usually. We wait until it is late, and he is not paying attention to run for it."

"Helen, that is not going to work."

"How do you know?" She demanded, hurt in her voice.

"Even if they only leave us one guard and he is not paying attention, it will be impossible for all twelve of us to run for it at once. And even if we do get past the guard, we don't know how to get out of here."

"Yes, we do. We go back the way we came."

"There will be Indians up and down the entire path. It will not take them long to know that we have gone missing. They will find us. If not inside the canyon, then certainly if we get out. We have no idea where we are, where are husbands are. This is a hostile country with many wild animals. We would not last a day on our own."

"You are far too negative," scolded Helen. "Where is the idealism I used to tease you about?"

"I cannot help that our present situation has taken a little bit of that optimism out of me."

"The old Isabella would try to escape with us."

"Perhaps, but I am too realistic now. I know your plan will fail, and even worse things might befall you."

Helen turned away from Isabella in anger. There was no escape for them. They were stuck at the mercy of men they all believed to be wild savages.

**

"Five days! Five days and nothing!" shouted James. 

The men around the furious James scattered like roaches caught in the light. His temper was apparently well known. They all endeavored to get out of his way.

"Where the hell can they be?!" he continued to shout. "We have searched and searched and nothing!"

"James, calm down." Only one man stood up and touched James' shoulder. Hermione recognized him as the man George whom had trouble hunting. "The army will be here in a few days to help."

"In a few days they could be taken further away," he spat. "Or worse… they could be…"

"Don't talk like that! They will be just fine."

Another man Hermione had yet to see stepped up to the two men.

"The army scout I talked to said this was a fairly common occurrence," he explained. "Women and children are taken, held by the Indians until some of those Mexican traders come by. The Mexicans take them to Santa Fe or El Paso and hold them for ransom. They are too much of a valuable commodity to be harmed."

This man tried to reassure James and the other men who had wives or children that were taken. However, this did not help the spirits of these men in the least.

"Ransoms have to be paid, Frank!" yelled James. "Where do you expect I find the money to buy my wife back?!"

"We will think of something, James. We will get them back somehow."

**

The group of women and children were even more haggard than the last time Hermione saw them. More time had passed. It was obvious that they were still being fed, but they were allowed very little else.

"I can't take it anymore!" Helen screamed in a whisper to Isabella. "Three weeks! Three weeks we have been in this horrible canyon. We are never going to be rescued."

"Don't say that, Helen!" Isabella pleaded. "Our men will not forget us. They will go to the ends of the earth to find us, if need be."

"I wish I could believe that."

"Stop thinking this way, Helen. Remember your girls. You need to be strong for them."

Helen became suddenly pensive at that remark.

"You are right," she said after a few minutes of silence. "I have my girls to think about."

It suddenly became very dark. All of those who had been awake and talking when Hermione last saw them were sleeping on the banks of the brook. They were huddled together in a protective clump. A noticeable empty spot was next to Isabella. Upon closer inspection Hermione realized she did not see Helen or her girls.

"Momma, where are we going?" A tiny voice whispered in the dark.

Hermione rushed towards the place where she heard the voice. Helen was standing in the middle of the brook. She was beckoning her two children to follow her.

"We are leaving this place. We are never going to come back," Helen answered her, taking both girls by the hand.

It all happened so quickly that Hermione hardly had time to react. Helen pulled the arms of her daughters fiercely. When she had a good hold of them, she shoved both of their head simultaneously under the water. Both girls struggled, but Helen did not let go.

"This will only hurt for a little bit. I promise." 

Helen's words hit Hermione with a vicious chill. She could hardly believe what she was seeing. A woman was drowning her own daughters.

"There you are, my little ones." 

Helen pulled each of her daughters from the water to give her a motherly kiss on the forehead. Both girls were dead by their own mother's hands. They floated at the top of the brook, blood mixing in with their blond ringlets. It was a horrifying sight.

"Mommy will join you soon." Helen put her own head under the water and took her own life.

The camp of the captives was in an uproar the next morning. Everyone was shocked by the macabre scene they awoke to. Two dead girls and their dead mother. No one was positive what had happened, but Hermione had a feeling that Isabella knew. She said nothing to anyone as the bodies of the three females were taken from the water. Her face once again became the same emotionless mask it had been in those first days. Deep down, Hermione knew that Isabella was not going to just sit idly by. A plan was formulating in her mind.

It was after dark and after everyone had gone to bed that Isabella began to implement her plan. She waited until the one guard had turned away, and she silently crawled in the brush to the grove of trees just beyond the camp. No one was watching her, she felt certain. Hermione followed her out of the camp and to an open area in the canyon. Slowly, quietly and cautiously Isabella found a rarely used footpath that would lead her, she hoped, out of the canyon. She had seen only one of her captors use it before, so she felt that her chances of not being found were good. While she knew that they had entered the canyon from a road almost four miles away, she knew she had to get out of the canyon at any point she could. It would be much easier for her to be found outside of the canyon than in.

The climb to the top of the canyon was long and hard. Hermione found herself having to stop to catch her breath on many occasions. There were strange sounds all around her in the darkness. She was not entirely sure what kind of creatures existed within the canyon walls, but she felt sure she did not want to know. When the land suddenly became flat, Isabella began to cry silently. She was out of the canyon. Quietly, but quickly, she began to run as fast as she could into the West Texas wilderness.

**

"The scout said there is a canyon about ten miles from here that many of the Comanches like to water their horses," George informed James. "We will be heading there today. It is a long ride, but they feel this is perhaps our best bet."

"Three weeks," James muttered to himself. "Three weeks since I last saw her. I only pray she is all right."

All of the men that Hermione had seen previously gathered around together were seated on their horses. Several uniformed army soldiers were with them. Hardly a word was said as the search party rode their horses closer and closer to the canyon that held their women and children.

**

Isabella was lost. She had not traveled far from the canyon in hopes that a search party would soon be there soon. The sun was high in the sky, and she was afraid to move from her hiding place. There had been little movement around her other than from a few jackrabbits and a skunk or two.

_Clip-clop. Clip-clop._

"Horses," she whispered to herself.

Hermione looked in the direction where the horses were coming from, but could not discern who the riders were. Frightened that she would be easily discovered, Isabella jumped up from behind the mesquite tree she was sitting behind and began to run towards the safety of the of trees on the edge of the canyon. As the horses got closer, Isabella became increasingly nervous. She stopped being as cautious as she had been, stopped running from tree to tree. With all the strength she had left in her legs she headed towards the grove of trees.

"Come on," Isabella screamed quietly to herself. "Run faster."

She was only steps from the trees when tripped on a large rock lying in the middle of the ground. Unable to catch herself, she plummeted towards the ground. It was to her misfortune that she was at the edge of the canyon when she did this. She lost her balance and fell off the steep cliff next to her. Hermione rushed to see if she was all right, but to no avail. Isabella was sprawled forty feet below her on a bed of rocks… most assuredly dead.

Hermione could not stop the tears from falling again. She was so tired of crying. It had felt that was all she had been doing the last… well, she was uncertain how long she had been gone from Hogwarts.

"I saw something moving over there!" shouted one of the riders headed her way.

Remembering the horses and their riders, Hermione turned her attention in their direction. Blue army coats were the first things she saw. Soldiers were riding towards the canyon. A group of men, unquestionably civilians, rode behind.

"Oh, no!" Hermione shouted to herself.

There he was. James was on his way. He had just missed his wife by mere minutes. Hermione could not stand. Her knees gave out and she fell to the ground below her. Tears of pain and anger spilled out of her eyes.

==

Severus awoke with a start. Cold sweat rolled down his face. His breathing was forced and ragged. He jumped off of his sofa in a swift, sudden movement. Searching the room for some sign of familiarity, he sighed when he realized he was still in his chambers.

"It was just a dream," he reminded himself, getting his breathing under control.

He reached for his black, always black, teaching robes. Pulling them on, he left the room intent on reaching the hospital ward.

"I do not understand why, but I will be there," he said to himself aloud.

A/N: Thank you all for being so patient with me. Life things have gotten in the way of my writing. I apologize for that, but my schoolwork must come first. I will certainly try to update sooner. Thank you to all of my reviewers!

As promised here are the legends associated with this story. There are a lot of stories about supernatural experiences with spirits. I personally am a believer in spirits. Too many times I have been faced with something unexplained to believe otherwise. I realize there are skeptics in this world, so I leave it up to you to believe or not.

Helen and her daughters: This is an actual, gruesome legend in my hometown. A woman with two twin daughters either went crazy when she was captured or simply was afraid of what the Comanches would do to her daughters. She drowned her children and then took her own life. A common 'sighting' if you will in my town is of two little girls with blond ringlets. They are usually playing by water and a woman is usually not far behind them.

Isabella's slipping on the rocks and falling to her death: While no one is entirely positive what happened to Kentucky Belle, as she is called, there is actually evidence that a young boy about fourteen fell to his death by slipping on rocks and hurdling over the side of the canyon. No one is sure if he was captured or if he died later. A young redheaded boy about fourteen is said to appear to people who stand too close to the edge of the canyon at a particular place in the town. One girl I know swears she saw him. She was looking over the side of the cliff at the rocks down below. She said that a young boy she had never seen before was suddenly there and said, "Be careful. Don't stand so close to the edge." She stepped away from the rocks she was standing in only moments before there was a rockslide. If she had stayed where she was, she would have been taken over the edge and fallen fifty feet. When she turned to thank the young man, he was gone. Creepy!

James: There is said to be a man that searches the canyon and the areas around it. He is said to be attractive, but angry, almost menacing. The legend has it that he is spending all of eternity searching for his lost wife. He has been 'seen' all over the town, never in just one particular area. Usually he is very quiet, but he has come up to young women. He looks them over as if checking to make sure they are not his wife before he turns around and disappears.

Isabella: Known in our town as 'Kentucky Belle' a woman walks the front entrance to the town at night. The front entrance used to be the back, rarely used entrance in the days that the natives brought their captives to the canyon. Kentucky Belle is a small, beautiful woman that paces up and down the area waiting for her husband or lover to come find her. It is not known if she is somehow related to the man that searches the canyon, but it does seem possible. I used to live in the area where Kentucky Belle is said to roam. I was driving to my home in the middle of a foggy night. There was a figure of a woman standing in the road, but I cannot be sure if it was her or not. It scared me though and the girl that was in the car with me. We decided one night to spend the night in my backyard to see if we could see her. About two in the morning we awoke to the sounds of a woman crying on the other side of my fence. I opened the gate and no one was there. Kentucky Belle? It's possible.

But Comanche and Apache Indians actually did kidnap the settlers and hold them for ransom within the walls of this particular canyon. My hometown that I miss dearly has a wonderful, rich, exciting history. 


	17. Edward & Mariah 1 or When it all starts ...

_A/N: Hey, everyone. Before this chapter begins I want to convey my deepest apologies for taking so long to update this story. It was never my intention to leave my readers waiting two months for a single chapter. As is the problem with many fan fics, real-life got in the way of my writing. University and an unexpected and horrible set of tragedies that affected my family, friends and myself kept me away from this story. I am about to be on my winter break from school, and my personal life has calmed down a bit and started to return to normal. I will try as hard as I can to update sooner, but I am afraid I cannot make any promises. Please bear with me. This has been a really difficult time for me, but writing does help. I have already started the next chapter, so it hopefully, if everything goes all right, will be posted quite soon. Thanks for being so understanding. I am really and truly thankful for each and every one my readers. It makes writing more fun to know there are others out there who enjoy it. :)_

_Thanks for listening to my ramblings. As usual this all belongs to J.K. Rowling, especially the part where I used her prophecy from the fifth book. Happy reading! -Lila_

Chapter Seventeen

Albus Dumbledore walked at a calm, unhurried pace through the corridors of the drafty Hogwarts castle. The vast majority of the school's students would already have settled into their warm, four-poster beds in their dormitories. He found himself thankful, for the first time, that this school year was about to come to a close.

And what a year it had been! The final fall of Lord Voldemort three months earlier had marked what was hoped would be an end to the era of Tom Riddle and his Death Eaters. After a fierce war between the good and the evil, countless lives lost on each side, the final battle marking Voldemort's demise had been a welcome blessing.

Harry Potter had fulfilled the prophecy that had hung over his entire existence.

_"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES… AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT… AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES… THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…"_

It had all happened on the quietest, stillest night that any could remember or imagine. There were no clouds in the dark night sky. Indeed the stars seemed to sense something was about to happen for they did not twinkle as brightly. There was no light from the moon. It had just gone through its phases and was dark.

A tired, ragged army assembled in the dark, overgrown graveyard. They were Aurors from the Ministry of Magic, members of the Order of the Phoenix and three Hogwarts students: the famed Gryffindor trio. No one knew the outcome of this battle. Each of them had a feeling that this night would be their last.

"Ten minutes until the summons," Severus Snape had announced to the assembled crowd.

How Severus Snape had managed to find this information, the exact location, date, and time of the next Death Eater summons was anyone's guess. He had only divulged his secret to Dumbledore. While there were many who whispered among themselves that they were being led into a trap, Dumbledore had ordered them to be there and no one questions Albus Dumbledore. So there they stood waiting for the darkest wizard the world had ever known to summon his followers to the graveyard that held the remains of his muggle father.

A long sigh escaped Professor Dumbledore as he continued his walk through the corridors of the castle. He did not like to remember that night. There had been several losses under his command. Young Nymphadora Tonks had been the first to fall. She had been foolish enough to go straight after Bellatrix Lestrange. Tonks had given up quite a fight against her aunt and her cousin's murderer, but to no avail. Dumbledore had taken an instant liking to Tonks almost from the first moment she had entered the halls of Hogwarts. Her loss had been difficult to bear.

Every loss had been difficult to bear. The beginning of the battle had looked like the dark would prevail. Aurors were dropping all around the graveyard. It was not until Albus and Harry began the ancient magical blood rituals did the side of good make any progress.

The entire battled lasted a brutal five bloody hours before the reign of the Dark Lord was put to an end. The essence of Tom Riddle was currently being held in the highest-security vault in the bowels of the Ministry of Magic. The newly appointed Minister Arthur Weasley, who had proved himself worthy and deserving of the job, was taking no chances with Voldemort's essence.

"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore," came a voice towards the end of the corridor leading to the hospital ward.

"Ahh, good evening, Mr. Potter," replied Dumbledore, secretly thankful for Harry's interruption of his disturbing memories. "It is rather late, is it not, Harry? Should you not be preparing for bed?"

"I'm sorry, Professor, but I'm worried about Hermione."

"Of course you are. I had a feeling you would be coming to see her this evening." He lowered himself onto a stone bench in the middle of the corridor. When he motioned to his student, Harry joined him. "Miss Granger has been through a great deal these last few hours. More than I believe we know or would understand."

"May I ask what you mean by that?" Harry inquired of his professor anxiously. "What else has happened to her?"

"Ahh… my young Harry. I am afraid I cannot answer that."

Harry began to protest, but the elder, wiser wizard held up an authoritative hand to stop him.

"I do not withhold this information on purpose, I assure you, Harry. If I was aware of what Miss Granger was experiencing I would share all that I knew."

"Right, just like you shared all that you knew regarding me, my past, my destiny, my…"

He stopped himself abruptly as it occurred to him just exactly what he was saying and to whom he was saying it. While Harry had tried to deny it or at least hide his still very-present anger at the actions and withholding of his mentor's, he had let his feelings show.

"Professor… I am sorry," he awkwardly apologized.

"No need, Mr. Potter. I understand where you are coming from. Perhaps if I had been more forthcoming… everything might have turned out differently."

A painfully uncomfortable silence fell between the two. When nothing had been said for several minutes and no semblance of interaction had taken place, the professor rose gracefully, albeit wearily, from the stone bench. He smoothed down his wrinkled turquoise blue robes, and turned slowly to face his student. With an almost forced, half-smile, he addressed the young man before him.

"I will leave you here, Mr. Potter," he announced matter-of-factly before disappearing down the dark corridors with only his troubling thoughts for company.

Harry continued to sit on the bench for several minutes after the exit of the headmaster. He had his own troubling thoughts, but his were focused more on the pain and uncertainty one of his best friends was going through at that moment.

"What were you thinking, Hermione?" he whispered to the black, emptiness of the corridor. "The one time you mess up a potion…"

Professor McGonagall searched the castle for both Harry and Ron almost as soon as she found out what had happened to Hermione. Knowing how close they were, how much she meant to them, she wanted to be certain that they found out the truth before rumors began to spread. She had always cared very much for her each of her Gryffindor students, but somehow, Harry, Ron and Hermione had always been essentially more special to her than the others.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for one of its students being outside of its common room half an hour before curfew."

Harry did not even need to turn his head to know where and from whom that comment came from. While he had at least a dozen or so remarks for his loathed potions professor, he knew that in one single swoop Gryffindor would be out of points completely. Wordlessly, Mr. Potter stood from the bench and began to walk towards Gryffindor tower. Before he had completely left the professor's earshot, he turned.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," he said coolly.

Professor Snape glared at the retreating form of his least favorite student. _A few more days, only a few more days_, he had had to remind himself over and over again that week. In just a few days he would be seeing the last of Harry Potter as a Hogwarts' student. He just had to be patient and not lose his calm before he actually left. In the present darkness of the corridor he allowed himself a small smile. Seven years he had been waiting for the day when he would see the last of Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, that blasted Neville Longbottom and that Know-It-All…

He stopped himself at that last thought. Was he honestly ready to see Miss Granger leave the castle forever? A few days prior there would have been no doubt in his mind about his answer. From the moment her hand first shot up in his class when she was hardly eleven years old, he had disliked her. Disliked her constant pattering on about all manner of topics in his potions lessons. He hated the way she always came to Longbottom's rescue in his class. How would he ever learn if he never concocted a potion by himself? Damn it! What else did he hate about her? Only a few days before the blasted potion explosion he would have easily and gladly ticked off a list a mile long giving in great detail everything he hated about that girl. But now…

"What the hell is wrong with me?!" he snapped to no one, for he was alone in the darkened corridor.

He should have been incensed that his time was to be wasted sitting in the hospital ward over a sick student. He should have been even angrier that said student was one he had been anxious to be rid of for seven years. No matter how hard he tried he could not bring himself to be angry about spending his time in the hospital ward. If anything, he was angry with himself for not being angry.

No matter how hard he tried he could not get the images from earlier in the evening out of his head. Hermione moving away from him in the mist beside the lake was by far the worst for him. Watching her walk away, knowing that she was indeed walking out of his life, hit him in a way he never would have expected or imagined.

"Damn it!" he hissed at himself.

The more he tried to forget how sad Hermione looked standing there on the banks of the lake, the harder forgetting became. Her bright eyes that were normally filled with curiosity or happiness had turned cold. He had seen enough cold eyes in his lifetime to recognize them, but only hers sent icy chills up his spine. It was unnatural for her eyes to be that cold, scary even. She was a witch with a considerable amount of talent, more talent than he was sure she even knew about yet. Stepping on her wrong side would be a fate worse than death.

He stepped quietly into the dark hospital ward. Poppy was either already in her private quarters just off the ward. There was no sign of her in the main area. All of the lights, with the exception of a single small nightlight in the corner furthest away from the beds, were out. Not one to need the lights to maneuver, not surprisingly, Severus made his way to the one occupied bed in the entire ward.

He certainly had no idea why his mentor had ordered him to sit next to the bed of a student of his, a student from a different house, a student he truthfully did not like. There seemed to always be reason behind Dumbledore's insanity, so he grudgingly obliged the old man's wishes. Certainly Albus would never ask him to do something that did not need to be done. Severus only wished for some inclination as to what that purpose was.

There were privacy curtains surrounding Hermione's hospital bed. Without making a sound he moved the curtains from his path to take a look at his student. Hermione was just as he had left her a few hours prior. He stopped himself in his thoughts to mentally remind himself to stop referring to his student by her first name. That created too much familiarity. It was in his best interest that he not get too close. Getting too close to someone, opening a door to someone else almost always ended disastrously. Hermi… er… Miss Granger could certainly be one that he might allow into the darkness that he lived in if he let himself. She, even at such a young age, was everything that he would look for if he were looking for a companion. He respected her intellect, her thirst for knowledge. He knew that if under the right circumstances they were to speak on equal terms, their conversation would be both enjoyable and interesting. She had grown up to be an elegant beauty, far beyond the expectations of those who remembered her as the bushy haired eleven year old with large front teeth. There was a quality about her that Severus felt without a doubt he could find himself loving… if he allowed himself to. That was the key… he was not going to allow that to happen.

She was crying again. What could she be going through if she was crying incessantly? He had never had any use for tears. They solved nothing. If anything they simply added to the problem. Her tears made him uncomfortable. Poppy had assured him that Hermione was not feeling any pain and that a potion to clear up the tears was unnecessary. Professor Dumbledore had even stuck his nose in to say that he felt hindering the tears would somehow hinder Miss Granger's recovery. Severus had found that ridiculous, but he did argue with Dumbledore.

When he was confident that there was nothing wrong with Miss Granger and there was no obvious change, he walked silently through the curtains. The chair next to the bed was anything but comfortable. He preferred to pace a small area near the large windows of the ward. Looking out onto the darkened Hogwarts' grounds, silently hoping to see a student out past curfew, calmed him down considerably. He was watching Hagrid's boarhound Fang crossing the grounds when he thought he heard movement coming from the area of Hermione's bed.

"Are you awake?"

There was no answer, but he felt certain he had heard the rustling of linen and the unmistakable sound of items being shifted around on the bedside table.

"Are you awake?" He asked again with a little more urgency, surprising himself with the unnatural way his voice sounded nervous and anxious.

==

Hermione found herself lying down in a bed that could hardly be considered comfortable. The room was completely dark and noiseless.

"Where am I?" she asked herself aloud. She had long ago stopped asking herself how and why she was visiting the places she was.

The anxious young woman fumbled around in the cool darkness for a light. Something felt strange about her current surroundings. They, if it could be possible or understood, felt eerily real to her. Before, she had not recognized anywhere she was. They had simply been faraway places and faraway times. She felt that she was simply intruding in someone else's life, that she had no purpose being there other than to watch. This was decidedly different.

"Are you awake?" came a voice in the darkness. She knew that voice well. The only difference was instead of it being laced with icy sarcasm there was a considerable amount of nervousness and concern.

"Professor?!" she exclaimed in a tiny whisper as that was the only sound her body would allow.

No answer. The man was still in the room; Hermione could not mistake his presence. He made no movement. Wherever he was, he seemed to be frozen in place.

"Are you awake?" he asked again nervously. It almost sounded as if he were unsure of what he wanted the answer to be.

"Edward?" Another voice in the room whispered.

All at once, Hermione heard the rustling of clothing and movement. He rushed to an area of darkness just over to Hermione's left. Her eyes had not yet had a chance to focus.

"_Incendio_!" whispered the man Hermione thought was her professor. She certainly had never heard him called Edward before.

The lamp on the bedside table flickered to life. Although by then it should not have shocked her it was all she could do to keep from fainting.

She was lying in the hospital ward of her beloved Hogwarts. It was exactly as it had always been. She could have just allowed herself to believe that the voices she heard in the dark were of her own imagination. She could have just brushed everything that had happened to her off as one disturbing dream from the mind of a schoolgirl who had developed a silly, if somewhat disturbing crush on her teacher. 

All of that would have been understood if not for…

"Mariah?! We have been so worried about you."

She was not out of her journey just yet.

"What happened?" asked the girl lying in the bed next to Hermione. Mariah, obviously.

Hermione pulled herself out of the hospital bed to take a look. Not surprisingly, Mariah looked exactly like Hermione and Edward looked exactly like Professor Snape. 

"_This is getting ridiculous,_" Hermione allowed herself to think.

There was an obvious nervous tension between the two. Mariah looked exactly like Hermione looked, same age, same everything. Edward looked young, hardly eighteen. The haunted look that the man he resembled always had was gone, but he was obviously troubled nonetheless.

"What happened?" asked Mariah, struggling to sit up. Edward impeded her process gently. Reluctantly she laid herself back down.

"There was an accident in the potions lab. A cauldron exploded," he answered quietly. Hermione could hardly remember seeing anyone as nervous as this young man. His hands were shaking violently, but he struggled to hide them from her view.

"That does not make any sense," Mariah responded, obviously confused at the answer. "I was alone in the lab."

"I know. It was your cauldron that exploded."

By the look on his face, Edward immediately wished he had not said anything. The color in Mariah's face went immediately from deathly pale to infuriated red.

"Never… in my… entire life," the words were coming out clipped. "Have I… once… messed up a potion!"

"There is a first time for everything, I am afraid," he tried hard to placate her.

Hermione found herself laughing at Mariah's behavior. How could anyone react so tragically to a messed up potion? Such trivial things were just that: trivial. There was no cause to get as upset as Mariah was over something so meaningless.

"Which potion, was it?" Mariah demanded still quite upset.

"I do not know the specific name. It was some kind of advanced healing potion Professor Grebe asked you to make, the nasty old greasy git."

"Edward! You mustn't say such things about the professor."

"Sorry," he added quickly. "I forget how much you seem to like him…"

Edward was offended. In that there was no doubt. To reassure him, Mariah hesitantly reached over for his hand. This simple act of affection calmed his nerves almost immediately. Edward took her hand and brushed it against his lips.

"Anyway… Grebe said you were distracted by something. Instead of adding hawthorn blossom to the potion, you added orpine."

"But that would…"

"Create a violent potion thus causing your cauldron to explode." He moved his hand to cup her cheek. "It is a miracle that you survived, Mariah. We were all afraid… I was terrified that you would not be coming back to me."

For a second, Mariah was touched by his words. Almost immediately however, she was back as she was.

"This is ridiculous! I could never be that clumsy!" She started to go off on a tirade about how she had never made a faulty potion and certainly had not started that day. She was abruptly cut off by a kiss from the young Edward.

"My little Know-it-All," he whispered affectionately.

"Why was I making that potion anyway?"

"You do not remember?"

"Everything is still a little fuzzy," she answered. Seeing the anxious look on Edward's face she quietly added, "But it is nothing to worry about, I am sure."

"Professor Grebe asked you o make the potion alone to prove to him that you were capable of brewing difficult potions alone for…"

"For his recommendation, of course," she remembered.

A gentle blush crept onto her face and a small smile emerged as well.

"I remember what I was distracted by," she said nervously.

From underneath her pajamas (official hospital ward wear) she pulled a simple gold chain out. Attached to the chain was a plain gold band with a single ruby. There was nothing special about the ring. It was in no way elaborate, a simple ring with only the ruby for adornment. Mariah gazed at the ring like it was the most costly of jewelry worn by the richest of women.

"I had taken this out for a second to look at it," she blushed. "My mind was wandering while I made the potion."

"You should have been more careful," Edward scolded.

"I know," she replied in a sheepish manner. "But I was having the loveliest of thoughts… thoughts about our future."

"There will be plenty of time to think of that. Only do not do it over an open flame."

Hermione watched this scene unfold with the greatest of interest. The story seemed obvious enough to understand. Both Hogwarts students, Edward and Mariah had gone to school together and fallen in love. Her unusual potion mistake had almost cost her her life. Like any man in love Edward had stayed awake all night to be there at her side when she awoke.

"When do you think I can take this off its chain and wear it proudly on my hand where it belongs?" she asked in a whisper while her eyes stared at the ring.

"When your father accepts my offer for your hand," he answered.

Mariah let out a loud, frustrated sigh before hiding the ring in her pajamas once more.

"He will never say yes," she replied angrily. "You and I both know that."

"Perhaps if we gave him time to warm up to the idea."

"Muggles will build mountains with their bare hands before he 'warms up to the idea'!" Her once weak, exhausted frame was energized with anger.

"Mariah, calm down," he pleaded.

"I bloody well will not calm down!" Her voice sounded strange in the quiet hospital ward. "My father would never in a million years give his blessing for you to marry me!"

"Mariah!"

"He won't," she replied quietly. The outburst had drained her of a substantial amount of energy. "He is already furious at me for accepting that position in the ministry's potion division."

"What?" Edward was shocked to hear that. "But that is a chance of a lifetime."

"'The proper place for a Slytherin wife is in the manor ordering about the house elves and raising magical children.'" She answered in an imitation of her father.

"But you are far too clever to waste all of your talents by sitting at home."

"I am a Slytherin. My father is a Slytherin. My brothers are all Slytherins. Only my mother is an exception in our family."

Hermione had to pause to process what she was seeing and hearing. Mariah was a Slytherin? She certainly did not seem to fit the stereotype. But, she reminded herself, all she really knew about this girl was that she looked just like her and was in love with some boy named Edward that looked just like her professor. Hermione knew nothing about this girl's life or her personality.

"All, right, so you're a Slytherin," Edward retorted in the same cutting voice Hermione had heard all too often. "And I'm a Gryffindor. What does that have to do with anything?"

_Gryffindor?_, thought Hermione. She tried to stifle a giggle at the thought if anyone resembling her professor decked out in scarlet and gold. It seemed almost unnatural.

"As a Slytherin I am expected to marry a fellow Slytherin. My father has told me that my entire life," Mariah explained.

"Certainly there are exceptions."

"If you were a Ravenclaw, this would hardly be a problem. We have a couple of Gryffindors in my family, distant relatives of course. I even have a cousin who is a Hufflepuff. She is a source of great humiliation for our family. We hardly talk about her."

"I still do not see a problem with waiting for your father's permission."

"My father would never allow me to marry a Mudblood."

Both Hermione and Edward flinched at Mariah's choice of words. Almost immediately after the word coming out of her mouth, Mariah turned her eyes away from Edward's face.

"I said it again, didn't I?" she asked quietly, although very aware of the answer.

"Yes," Edward said in hardly a whisper.

"I am so sorry. It just came out of my mouth. I did not mean to say that."

It was Edward's turn to look away from Mariah.

"Edward, I'm sorry. You know that I love you. I don't care who your parents are or that you're Muggle born. That doesn't matter to me."

"It sounds as if it does."

"It matters only to my father. Edward, I love you. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life as your wife," she said emphatically. "But if we are to be married, we have to elope. Father will never say yes."

"Your uncle…"

"What about him?

"Surely there is something he could do. Does he have any influence over your father? He would be our best ally."

Mariah sat there thinking over Edward's suggestion.

"I suppose I could ask him to try. Maybe Father would listen. He has always had respect for his elder brother."

"We will talk with him tomorrow and ask him."

Edward leaned down to kiss his future wife on the forehead.

"Is my niece awake?"

There was a third person in the room, a wizard, but Hermione could not see him from the angle she was at. Edward was blocking her view.

"Yes, Professor," he hurried to reply. "She just woke up a few minutes ago."

The professor was still a good distance away from the bed his niece was lying in, but he was moving quickly towards her.

"And you, young lady, gave us all quite a scare. What was I going to do if something even more terrible happened to you? How was I going to tell my brother Adeben that his only daughter was seriously injured while at my school?" 

The wizard approached the side of Mariah's bed. Edward was still blocking Hermione's view, so she moved away from the assembled group. She felt her jaw was going to drop down to the floor when she saw who the man was... Albus Dumbledore, looking much younger than the wizard she knew, was leaning over the bed to give his niece a kiss on the forehead. 


	18. Edward & Mariah 2

_A/N: My sincere, sincere apologies for taking such a long time to update. Between school, work, a broken computer, an unexpected trip out of the country, and all of the other random events that life throws at you, there was little time to be found to write. Forgive me if this is not a chapter worth waiting all of those months for, but life just got in the way. The story is coming close to an end. Only a couple more chapters left to go. Please enjoy. -Lila_

Chapter Eighteen

Something weird was going on and Hermione did not like it. She had gone through the pain and sadness of watching the pairs of doomed lovers throughout history because she believed it all to be some horrible nightmare that she would eventually wake up from. Now she was not entirely sure she would ever leave this world, this alternate reality that held only sadness.

It had all seemed a dream somehow when she was far away in the foreign lands of the previous stories, but somehow being inside the hospital ward of Hogwarts, the ward she unfortunately knew all too well, made her feel stuck inside a disturbing memory. This was real, even if nothing else she had seen was. Everything had been leading her to this place at this time. What was she going to see? What was happening? And how would it eventually affect her? She could only stand by and watch the scene before her unfold.

"I am all right, Uncle Albus," Mariah replied emphatically to her uncle while looking at Edward with the same assurance. "A bump on the head, that is all."

"I spoke with Professor Grebe. He has been checking in on you since your accident yesterday afternoon," Albus Dumbledore explained. "He believes that with a few days' rest you, my darling, will be as good as you ever were."

"That is a relief, I must say," Edward sighed.

Dumbledore smiled in the direction of the young man. His twinkling eyes revealed none of his secrets. Hermione could not help but feel comforted at knowing that Professor Dumbledore knew so much. She had always been surprised as a young Hogwarts student how her headmaster seemed to know things he could not possibly know. After Harry informed her that he was a Legilimens, it all made sense. Dumbledore was reading Edward's emotions as they spoke.

"Professor Dumbledore, is there something we can do about the Potions Master?" Edward asked nervously.

"What do you mean, Mr. Canton?" Albus knew, of course, but was anxious to hear Edward's own words.

"I believe we should talk to Headmaster Dippet and have Professor Grebe reprimanded for his actions."

"What are you talking about, Edward?" Mariah asked impatiently.

"He asked a student to brew a potion very advanced of her level with no supervision whatsoever. It is pure and simple negligence on his part."

Albus did something that surprised both Mariah and Edward. He laughed. Not just a quiet chuckle, but a roaring laugh that had his head thrown back. Something about what Edward had just said obviously amused him.

"To be young and in love again," Dumbledore sighed. He was silent for a few moments, a wistful, nostalgic look in his faraway eyes.

"Professor?"

Dumbledore came back into reality.

"Yes, well you had quite an experience, Mariah. You need your rest."

The authority in his voice, even then, left no one to question. Mariah smiled up at Edward before nestling herself back down into the freshly starched sheets of the metal hospital bed she was in. Professor Dumbledore leaned down to kiss his niece on the forehead once again. He turned to look at Edward.

"I will leave you two alone for only a moment to say 'good night' to each other," he informed the young lovers. "When you have finished, Mr. Canton, I will meet you out in the corridor to discuss what you wish to discuss with me."

Edward looked at him dumbfounded. He had not mentioned anything to Dumbledore about wanting to speak with him in private. Hermione, of course, was not surprised at hearing this. Professor Dumbledore crossed the ward to the door that led to the corridor. Mariah found herself giggling at her fiancée's bemused face.

"How does he always know even what we do not tell him?" he asked.

"Great mystery, I guess," Mariah sighed. She winced and held on to her side. Obviously she was still in quite a bit of pain from her accident. "Uncle Albus has always seemed to know everything before it happens or know what we are going to say before we say it."

"Oh, Mariah… do you need me to get Madam Pomfrey?" Edward saw her pained expression and began to get nervous for her sake.

"Don't worry about me so," she became very defensive at his suggestion. "A little bit of pain is to be expected. After all I was almost killed yesterday."

She was trying to make light of her situation. It was obvious, to Hermione at least, that Mariah did not want Edward to be any more worried than he already was. She was trying to joke about what happened to lessen the seriousness of her situation. Edward did not appreciate her efforts.

"This was not some routine potion accident. You certainly should not be treating it as such," he retorted.

Hermione was having difficulty understanding how two people so obviously different from each other ended up together. Simply from observing the few minutes that had passed from the moment Mariah had woken up, she could tell that arguments or disagreements were not uncommon between the two. The way they so easily attacked each other, attacked of course in the lightest sense of the word, denoted a familiarity with sparing words. This did not come as a surprise to Hermione as a bystander. Seeing anyone who resembled her potions professor made her immediately imagine him to have a sullen disposition. Certainly she could never get along with him even when they were thrown together with the Order. If Edward Canton was somehow one of Professor Snape's "former" lives she was not in the least surprised that he seemed uncooperative.

"I am all right," Mariah assured him for what seemed the hundredth time. "Madam Pomfrey has taken very good care of me."

At about that moment the mentioned Madam Pomfrey entered the ward from the room that Hermione knew to be her personal quarters. She had a determined look on her face, one that Hermione was intimately familiar with. Her destination was the bedside of Miss Mariah Dumbledore. Judging by the look she was at present giving to Mr. Canton, she was either not expecting him to still be there or she intensely wished him gone.

"Mr. Canton, I believe I asked you to leave the hospital ward over two hours ago," Madam Pomfrey reminded the young man. Her face had the same irritated expression that she would have years later in Hermione's own time at Hogwarts. Upon seeing the faces of the young lovers, Madam Pomfrey's softened a bit. "While this may surprise you to hear this from me, I do understand what young love is all about and how it feels. While I am sympathetic, I must insist, Mr. Canton that you please return to your dormitory. Miss Dumbledore will be taken care of, I can assure you. Right now she has some potions that she needs to take and I have to examine her to be sure that she is completely out of the woods."

Edward nodded in acquiescence.

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," he replied. "I will see you in the morning, Mariah."

He took her left hand in his and gently kissed it.

"All right," Mariah answered. Her visit had visibly taken its toll on her strength. It seemed that she would be awake only for a minute or so more. "Good night, Edward."

Edward allowed himself one last look at his ailing fiancée before he opened the door leading to the corridor outside of the hospital ward. Knowing that whatever was going to be worth seeing would be where Dumbledore and Edward were, Hermione left her look-alike to follow Edward outside of the ward.

"I have rarely seen such a look of sickness as that of a young man worried about his love," Professor Dumbledore mused upon seeing Edward.

"But Professor, these are not idle concerns. Mariah could have been killed in the accident. She may not be well for a long time."

"I do understand your concerns, Mr. Canton, but I would not worry about your young lady. If there is one thing that I know about my niece it is that she is determined and tough. She is too tough to let this unfortunate jeopardize her future in any way."

Dumbledore could always, despite the situation, make anyone feel better. He had a calming effect on even the most afflicted. This was no different with the young Edward. Almost immediately after the words were spoken he was visibly calmer.

"Now what was it that you wished to speak to me about?" Dumbledore asked in an attempt to get the young wizard's mind off of his present troubling thoughts. "I know it has something to do with Mariah. It does not take a mind reader to know that much."

"Well, p-professor," Edward stammered. "I do not quite know how to begin… Are you aware of the extent of mine and Mariah's relationship?"

"All I know is what I can see on your faces," Dumbledore replied with a smile. "I am afraid that my niece has not been very forthcoming with her personal life. It is understandable, of course. What young woman wants to tell her codger of an uncle about the young men in her life?"

"Yes, right…"

It was obvious beyond a doubt that Edward would have rather been anywhere than having the conversation he was having in the drafty corridors of Hogwarts.

"I have asked… I have asked Mariah to marry me," he blurted out after a few tense moments of absolute silence.

"I see…" the professor replied. "And now you feel that there is a problem with your plans?"

Dumbledore did not need the magical power he possessed as a Legilimens to know this for a fact. Every inch, every line of Edward's face bespoke of some fear he had that the one thing he longed for more than anything else, his marriage to Mariah, was doomed not to take place. His greatest anxiety was that Mariah's pure-blood father, who strangely sounded nothing like Albus Dumbledore to Hermione, would never allow his precious daughter to marry "beneath" her. Surely a man like Adeben Dumbledore believed a Muggle-born wizard like Edward, who was a Gryffindor no less, the most hated of all houses by Slytherin, was beneath him and the members of his family. It is uncommon for a proud and determined man to allow such a commitment. These fears of Edward's were not unfounded or even surprising. Judging by the serious look on Professor Dumbledore's kind face he was already aware of his fears.

"Mariah is positive that her father would never give his permission to allow our marriage to take place. She wants to run away and get married without his blessing," the hopeful groom-to-be explained. "I will not cause a rift in her family if I can help it."

"I understand your concerns, Edward," Dumbledore said dropping his usual professor-student formality. Edward was by far one of his favorite students and certainly one of the brightest students he had ever had. Nothing would have given him more pleasure than to see his beloved niece marry the powerful wizard who he knew would make her happy and was certain to have a successful future ahead of him. "My youngest brother is a very different sort of fellow than you or I, I am afraid. It was upsetting to me when he married and all but forgot his relations. The Dumbledore name, sadly, is the only thing we have in common. The fact that he would never willingly allow Mariah to marry outside of their "social" class is not unknown to me. It is appalling and saddens me beyond what I could explain. What I do not understand is what you would have me do to ensure yours and your beloved's matrimonial bliss."

This last bit was said in the form of a comment, but there was no mistaking the answer Dumbledore wished for. Edward lowered himself slowly onto a stone bench and released an exhausted sigh. Hermione could tell by his expression….

…_how strange the look of both love and pain on his face. I could never imagine the same on Professor Snape's face._

She found herself thinking over everything she had just seen in her many travels. Each time she saw a man that resembled Professor Snape down to the very last hair on his head, she was shown something that she never imagined she would see. Severus Snape had never appeared to be all together human. He lived, breathed, ate and she assumed slept, but love was never an emotion she could imagine him feeling, let alone expressing. Each of these men had been in love, madly, passionately in love. Although they still had the sullen manner of the wizard who spent entirely too much time in the Hogwarts dungeons with blundering first-years, they were happy with the women they loved, even if only for a short amount of time. Love, it seemed, would be the only thing that could save, if saving was what he really needed… was the only thing that could possibly save him from a fate she deemed worse than death. To be without love was a punishment far worse than imprisonment in the dank, darkness of Azkaban prison. To be without love, but continually be surrounded by it was nothing that Hermione ever wanted to imagine. In just those few moments watching the sadness that crept over the features of young Mr. Canton, Hermione felt an overpowering sympathy for the man she had claimed to hate and had secretly been afraid of since that day when she was eleven in her first potions lesson.

Remembering, of course, the conversation going on between Professor Dumbledore and Edward before her, she resolved to put away her own thoughts about her own time and focus on what was unfolding. She had not yet missed anything. Edward was still trying to figure out how he was going to form his request.

"Mariah once told me about the immense respect her father has for his elder brother, Professor. I understand that there have been problems within your own personal family that have changed relationships and changed… well, everything, but I know that he respects your opinion," Edward hurriedly attempted to explain.

"Ahh… so I see. You wish for me to have a talk with my brother to try to convince him to give his blessing. Is that about right?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well… yes, that is exactly what I wished to ask. I know that it is more than I should have asked, that I should never expect you or anyone for that matter to be so intimate with their personal affairs and ask them to do such a tremendous favor for me…"

Edward was rambling a long nervous rant. Dumbledore stopped him with a silent gesture.

"I have a great amount of respect for you, Mr. Canton," Dumbledore announced. "It is not very common that one finds someone so young with as much confidence and vigor that you possess. I know how strong love is, especially when one is young and has the rest of their lives ahead of them. I know, believe it or not, the extreme measures that some will go to to ensure love and happiness. Yes, love is something I am quite familiar with."

Dumbledore smiled a wistful smile before continuing.

"There are very few that I would do this for, I hope you realize, but yes, I will speak with Adeben on the matter of your engagement," Dumbledore promised. "He has been informed of his daughter's injuries and will be arriving at the school tomorrow morning to check on her progress. I will speak to him on your behalf then."

"Thank you, Professor!" Edward's countenance brightened at the prospect.

"I will speak to him on one condition…"

Edward's face dropped. Reluctantly he replied, "What is the condition, sir?"

"That you go straight to your dormitory and get some sleep," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "You have been up for a very long time. Go to bed and come to my office not one minute before 11 am."

Hermione watched the exhilarated and hopeful figure of Edward Canton disappear down the corridor on his way to Gryffindor Tower. As she expected she found her surroundings swiftly changing to those of the office that would become Professor McGonagall's in her time. Professor Dumbledore was seated behind his desk with another wizard that upon first glance Hermione could recognize as his younger brother. Adeben Dumbledore was simply a younger version of Albus. The only differences were the lack of warmth behind his own blue eyes. Both wizards had auburn hair, but Albus' was already becoming a bit white.

"I understand your concern for Mariah, Albus, I really do," said Adeben. "But the fact is, she has been promised to another since she was a young girl."

"An arranged marriage?" The words fell out of Dumbledore's mouth with disgust.

"Of course an arranged marriage. A respected Slytherin family offered their son when she was only about four. It has been arranged all of this time. As soon as she leaves Hogwarts at the end of this term she will be married."

"And is Mariah aware of her future?" Professor Dumbledore was angry, but he remained calm.

"She has always known what is expected as my daughter. She will be ready to accept her future."

"What is she chooses not to marry the young man you have chosen for her?"

"That is not even a question you should concern yourself with, Albus. Mariah will do as she is told."

"I must say that you do not know your daughter as well as you think you do if you believe she will just blindly obey your commands. She is too independent and spirited to be pushed into a marriage she does not wish for."

"If she does not marry whom I wish her to marry she will be a disgrace to my family. She will shame us. That cannot be borne."

There ever-increasingly heated conversation was brought to a standstill by the arrival of Edward. He rapped nervously on the door of the office. Albus Dumbledore rose from his chair and practically glided across the room to answer the door.

"Ahh, good morning, Mr. Canton. I trust you are feeling rested this morning?" Dumbledore greeted the evidently frightened young man.

"Yes, sir, I did, thank you."

"Please come in." Dumbledore tugged on Edward's arm to bring him into the room. "Mr. Canton, I would like to introduce you to my younger brother and Mariah's father, Adeben Dumbledore."

The meeting from then on became so uncomfortable that Hermione wished she could leave. She knew that she had to find out the events that had taken place, but she liked it less and less as time went on. Adeben Dumbledore was ever bit the heartless pureblood wizard Hermione had imagined him to be. In every aspect he was indeed worse than even her assumptions. He strove to make Edward uncomfortable in every possible way. For almost thirty minutes the discussion of marriage and the protest of it by Adeben Dumbledore continued.

"I trust you understand the predicament I find myself in, Mr. Canton," Adeben said coolly. "If I allow my precious Mariah to marry you instead of the wizard she has been promised to for years then my word in this community will be worthless. No respectable wizarding family would ever do business with me from now on."

"But Mr. Dumbledore I am sure they would understand if you told them how much Mariah and I love each other!" Edward protested vehemently. He was determined not to let his love go without a fight.

"I am very sorry, Mr. Canton, but I cannot give you my blessing."

This last statement seemed to close the issue permanently. Adeben Dumbledore was not a man who was going to pushed around by anyone. He was not going to let anyone change his mind or his feelings. He was used to being the one who did the pushing. His reputation was by far more important to him than whether or not his children were happy. Mariah, his only daughter, was not going to marry Muggle-born Edward Canton. Adeben would do everything in his power to prevent that from happening.

"I understand, Mr. Dumbledore," Edward conceded. His head hung low; his gaze was focused on the professor's woven rug.

Nothing more on that subject could be said. A frantic, urgent knocking was heard on the other side of the office door. Professor Dumbledore rose from his chair much faster than before and threw open the door wile the elderly wizard outside in the corridor was in mid-knock. Hermione had seen this particular wizard in portrait before but she was unable to think of his name.

"Professor Grebe, is there something wrong?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, Albus, I am afraid there is," he answered in a calm, yet nonetheless concerned tone. "It is Grindelwald."

Professor Dumbledore led his colleague out into the corridor to speak. Hermione tried to listen in, but their voices were too soft to carry. The two wizards left in the office continued to sit in a tense silence. After a period of a few minutes that threatened to drag on indefinitely, the professor returned.

"I am afraid we are going to have to cut this short," announced Dumbledore who did not return to his desk, but instead headed towards a large cupboard in the back of his office.

"Is there a problem, Professor Dumbledore?" Edward asked concerned by his behavior.

"Grindelwald has been sighted just a few miles from Hogsmeade," he explained. "The prefects are taking the students to their dormitories, and most of the professors are headed into the village."

Hermione looked towards Adeben for any kind of expression. The one she saw was not surprising, but still disconcerting. He was formulating a plan to be sure. Anything that came from that man was unlikely to be good.

"Will you be needing any help, Albus?" he asked.

"I am certain that we could use every bit of help we could get," Albus Dumbledore answered.

"Mr. Canton, my brother was informing me earlier of your immense magical power," Adeben continued. "This Grindelwald has been creating too much havoc. To be rid of him would be a comfort to us all."

"I am not sure I understand, Mr. Dumbledore."

"If you were to aid my brother in eradicating this fiend," Adeben explained. "I will be willing to give you and my daughter my blessing."

That was the only encouragement Edward needed. Immediately after thanking Adeben Dumbledore he was helping Albus Dumbledore to prepare for battle against the darkest wizard the world had yet known. Hermione could not help wondering why Adeben would be willing to give up everything simply because Edward was willing to fight. Something was very wrong with this logic. Edward did not seem to be worried about any ulterior motives that his prospective father-in-law might have. It was evident, however, that Professor Dumbledore was wary of his brother's intentions. He shot an inquisitive look towards his younger brother, but it was only Hermione who saw it.

"Before I leave I need to see Mariah in the hospital ward," Edward announced before leaving the office in a hurry.

"If you will excuse me, Albus, I need to return to the manor. It was lovely to see you again. Perhaps next time our meeting will not end on such an unpleasant note."

Adeben bowed to his brother a short, stiff bow and headed out the office door. Not wanting to miss a moment of the events, Hermione followed after him. Once out in the corridor Hermione saw a man she had not seen before. He was standing in a dark corner apparently waiting for Adeben.

"Mr. Dumbledore?" he asked in a tone that could not be mistaken. He was some kind of employee for Adeben. A bodyguard or assistant, perhaps.

"Follow him. Do whatever you have to do, but make sure he does not ever come back," Adeben ordered in a whisper before sweeping off to the hospital ward.

Hermione and Adeben interupted a tearful goodbye between the young lovers.

"I may be gone for awhile, but I do not want you to worry about me," whispered Edward.

"Awhile? How long did Uncle Albus say you might be gone?"

"The last time he went after Grindelwald he was gone for a month. I am not entirely sure when we will return."

"Or even if!" Mariah replied sardonically.

"I will return. I am just not certain when that will be. If I am not back before the term ends, go on home. I will see you there."

"No, I will not go home while you are out there fighting and potentially dying!" she argued. "I am not leaving this castle until you return."

"It may be even longer than a month."

"Then I shall be here even longer than a month. I will not leave this castle until you return."

Mariah could not be persuaded to leave the castle until she saw Edward again. It saddened Hermione because she had heard the order that Adeben had given to kill Edward. In every other journey the people did not end up happy. This was going to be another one of those stories.

"Mr. Canton, it is time to leave," announced Professor Dumbledore. "We will be leaving Mariah in capable hands."

There was yet another tearful goodbye. An additional ten minutes passed before Edward followed Professor Dumbledore out of the hospital ward off to a destiny that did not look promising. Mariah cried to herself long after Edward left. She and her father had a small disagreement about her engagment in the meantime. Nothing was settled because Madam Pomfrey came in to give Mariah a draught of sleeping potion. It was to be remembered that Mariah had a long way to go before she was completely healed.

"If you would not mind, Madam Pomfrey," Adeben began in his smooth-talking manner. "I wish to sit by my daughter's side for a bit before I leave."

"Of course, Mr. Dumbledore. I will be in my office if you need anything."

Hermione watched Madam Pomfrey walk back to the confines of her office. She knew that something horrible was about to happen, and that the absence of the mediwitch only hastened the process.

"Did you honestly think that I was going to allow my daughter to break engagement to a member of one of the most powerful wizarding families in Britain to marry a filthy Mudblood?" he barked quietly in the silence of the hospital ward. Mariah had already fallen into a deep sleep at that moment. "Refuse a Malfoy to marry a Mudblood?! This is ridiculous. My brother's childish ideas of equality have poisoned her mind. I will not have her shame this family!"

With that he took a pillow off of a nearby vacant bed. Hermione screamed for him to stop, but of course, her cries were not heard. In only a matter of moments Mariah had fulfilled her promise to Edward to never leave Hogwarts Castle… at least alive. 


	19. Late Night Discoveries

Chapter Nineteen

"Are you awake?" Severus asked the still and dark hospital ward.

No answer. He could have sworn he heard movement coming from the area around Hermione's sick bed.

"Are you awake?" He asked once more, surprising himself with the urgency he heard in his voice.

Once again there was no response to his pleading question. Severus did not want to worry unnecessarily about a sound he may or may not have heard. Quietly, but with a swiftness he had spent years perfecting he was at Hermione's bedside.

"Miss Granger?" he said in little above a whisper. "Are you awake?"

There was a small lamp next to her that once lit emitted a tiny bit of light into the otherwise pitch room. Hermione was still fast asleep, but her coloring had improved the professor was pleased to see. But even after seeing the young woman undoubtedly still asleep he could not ignore the fact that he had indeed heard noises around her cubicle. His hearing was quite sharp. Years of spying and hiding had given him more than ample ability in that area. Something had made a sound.

"It was probably only Peeves playing a joke," he thought, but quickly dismissed the idea. "No, he is not allowed anywhere near the ward."

He was about to give up and convince himself he had only imagined the noise when a new item on the bed table came into his view. A single sheet of parchment lay beside the lamp he had just lit. It had not been there then.

"What?" he questioned himself. It was steadily growing later and he could feel the exhaustion in his bones. His brief, all-too-brief nap earlier in the day had been anything but restful. It would only be a matter of time before his body would begin to fight him for sleep. Of course it was not unheard of to see or hear things that do not exist when one is exhausted.

Severus rubbed his tired eyes to be sure he had actually seen the parchment that he was certain had not been there only moments before. When he reopened his eyes he found to his astonishment that the parchment was no longer on the bed side table but had moved onto the blanket of the sleeping Hermione Granger. Convinced that there was something amiss, he drew his wand from his robes. There was no logical explanation for the roving parchment. He then of course remembered that his own magical world was rampant with occurrences of incidents that could not be explained by logic.

Severus hesitatingly retrieved the parchment from the sleeping girl's bed. Nothing about it seemed malevolent, but he could also not say for sure whether or not it was simply an ordinary sheet of parchment either. Upon close examination by the light on the small table he could discern only four characters at the top of the page.

"1945?" he asked aloud, forgetting briefly that he was in the hospital ward.

The numbers were written in simple, but elegant, whether that be a contradiction or not, script. It was simple with straight lines and minimal curving, but yet he could tell the hand belonged to one of great elegance and pride. In his time as potions professor he had seen many different kinds of writing from all different kinds of students. Handwriting could tell a lot about a person. Divination of crystal balls and tealeaves were nowhere near as definitive as the divination of the hand.

"1945?" he asked again as if thinking that by repeating to himself the answer to his question would simply come to him.

What happened next almost caused this stalwart professor to jump and drop the item he was holding. In the same script and just under "1945" two words that had obviously no meaning to the professor appeared. Now he was really becoming intrigued.

"Edward Canton," he read aloud. "Who is Edward Canton?"

He half-expected his answer to appear under the words that already occupied the parchment. Much to his dismay the answer did not. This was a riddle. Of course he understood that Edward Canton and 1945 went together. A lot had happened that year. Severus tried to recall all of the well-known events that took place in 1945, but the name Edward Canton never camp up. Apparently he was not a well-known individual.

Miss Granger appeared to at last be sleeping peacefully, and as he did not expect her to wake up for at least another hour or so, the professor left the warm infirmary for the chilly corridors. He remembered looking through the library annex that housed at least one copy of every single issue of the Daily Prophet once for a class assignment in his youth. Considering that the well-read wizard newspaper began back in the year 1297 this was no small collection. The witch who had been the school's librarian, he could not remember her name, had kept the room immaculate. Every issue was in its place. Warning whistles would sound is a single issue was misplaced by a clumsy student. He also remembered there had been an immense index in the middle of the room. Every year the librarian would add the new information to the old. Surely Madam Pince continued to do the same.

He met no one on his way to the library. For that he was thankful. Edward Canton and the mysterious parchment were still weighing heavily on his mind. He was also pleased to find the anteroom of the library filled with old newspapers just as he remembered. The large index located in the middle of the room took up much of the floor space. Shelves on every wall at least seven stories high held the copies.

Severus moved swiftly to the index. He had never been one to waste time. Despite its massive size the index was quite simple to maneuver.

"C," Severus said aloud to the book.

Immediately the volume rustled its pages to open to the beginnings of the Cs. There were an extraordinary number of items in this section. Once more the professor wasted no time in turning the pages to the desired subject.

_Canton, Edward Harris _

_ Canton, Edward Henry Peter _

_ Canton, Edward Patrick George _

_ Canton, Edward Smith _

"Perfect," he muttered to himself. "How am I to know which one is the one I am looking for?"

He had hardly let the words leave his mouth when he became aware of the dates beside each of the names. The date of 1945 was remembered so he looked once more.

_Canton, Edward Harris (1754-1892) _

_ Canton, Edward Henry Peter (1972- ) _

_ Canton, Edward Patrick George (1501-1598) _

_ Canton, Edward Smith (1927-1945) _

The last name, Edward Smith Canton, was the only entry that made any sense. There were three articles about the young wizard. Two were written in June of 1945 and the last one penned in September 1945. Severus took his wand from his pocket, tapped the each article date, and raised the wand above his head. Three issues of the _Daily Prophet_ flew from the shelves straight to a nearby table. Settling himself in a chair behind the table, Severus pulled the three issues of the newspaper closer to him.

The first article was a basic announcement that the _Daily Prophet_ carried every year at the same time.

"_Hogwarts, Pride of Britain, Finishes Another Year" _

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry celebrates the end of another year, the school's 945th, next week. Final exams, including the O.W.L.s for fifth years and the N.E.W.T.s for seventh year wrapped up only yesterday. Students, grateful for the break have another week in the castle before they will head home for summer holidays. _

_ Headmaster Armando Dippet was quoted as saying, "Another brilliant group of young adult witches and wizards have completed their final year. We, the staff and professors, look forward to the great achievements we feel will come out of this school." One hundred twenty-four fully trained witches and wizards will be leaving this year, the largest recorded class in the history of the school. _

Severus skimmed ahead to the section where each student was profiled individually. He had been prepared to look for Mr. Canton in the Cs, but found himself stopping at the pictures of Head Boy and Girl. Prunella Faun, Head Girl, was an acquaintance of his. They met several years earlier at one of Albus' dreadful dinner parties. He had been lucky to have even escaped from her attentions that evening. She began work at the Ministry soon after leaving Hogwarts.

The Head Girl of 1945 was not the person that instantly caught Severus' eye. His attention immediately fell on the picture of the Head Boy. It was almost as if he were staring at one of his old school photos. The young man had a definite resemblance to the professor. In the photo the young man was smiling, most unlike Severus Snape. Simply looking at the photo gave one the feeling that this young man had the determination and skills to go far in life.

"Head Boy… Mr. Edward Smith Canton," Severus read aloud to the empty room. Although the words came out of his own mouth and he could see them on the paper, he found himself shocked and even a bit skeptical.

_Mr. Edward Smith Canton _

_ Head Boy – Gryffindor House _

"Gryffindor?" The word was every bit as tart as poison.

_He will be training as an auror as soon as the term ends. Plans on settling in Herefordshire._

There was nothing more about Edward Canton in that edition, so Severus took up the next June issue. This was an edition he had personally seen before. A pair of pictures on the front page and a flashing headline immediately caught the reader's attention.

_Special Edition: Grindelwald Defeated!! _

A smiling photo of Dumbledore next to a photo of a scowling Grindelwald took up much of the front page. Severus skimmed the article he had read before when he was still in school. The article was the same as he remembered, but a few lines jumped out at him unlike before.

_ Hogwarts Head Boy Edward Canton was instrumental in helping Albus Dumbledore, recently awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, fight against Grindelwald and his followers. Following the battle Canton disappeared. Aurors from the Ministry of Magic continue the search for the young wizard. _

Professor Snape pushed aside the last June issue and picked up the last of the three issues. He had, loath to admit it, become even more interested in Edward Canton following the discovery that he appeared to be his doppelganger. His hand still held onto the mysterious parchment. It had been years since he had run across anything even similar to what he now had in his possession. Of course the Marauder's Map had somehow managed to find its way back into the hands of his least favorite student. He knew that this parchment held some secret that he needed to figure out. This was personal. The last article was short and to the point.

_Mr. Edward Canton, formerly Hogwarts' Head Boy was discovered yesterday by a Muggle shepherd (a man who takes care of sheep). Sadly, the recent recipient of the Order of Merlin, Second Class for his part in the downfall of Grindelwald, was dead. A spokeswizard from St. Mungo's put his time of death just after the fall of the dark wizard. For months the search for this young wizard has been one of the priorities of the Ministry. He has been taken to his Muggle parents where he will be laid to rest in their family burial ground. _

The articles listed in the index were all read, but Severus did not feel any sense of understanding of the mysterious writing on the parchment. He certainly was not feeling any amount of closure on the subject. In his mind he went over all that he had discovered that evening. So much had happened in the last twelve hours it was difficult to keep everything straight. Hours felt like days. First there had been the horrific accident in the potions storeroom that he was still trying to calm down from. It had never before occurred to him that he did indeed care for Hermione Granger as much as he did. Then, the never-ending waiting beside her bed in the hospital ward. Albus had yet to explain his purpose in waiting for Miss Granger to wake from her drug and pain induced sleep. After the disconcerting dreams he had after mistakenly imbibing the wrong sleeping potion, Severus had been ready for this whole business to be over and done with. Now with the parchment that was magically sending him messages and the discovery of his 1940s double he was more than prepared for the impending summer holidays.

The articles were read and he was no closer to solving the mystery of the parchment. He slumped in his chair with a deep sigh. His head was beginning to pound with the pain of frustration and exhaustion. Nothing simple, normal or straightforward ever seemed to happen in his life. Most of the rest of the world's population, Muggles and magicals as well, had boring, monotonous lives compared to his.

"And I was naïve enough to think this day would go by like any other," he said to the empty room. "Breakfast, classes, dinner, sleep… was that too much to ask for?"

Severus pulled the June article announcing the end of Hogwarts term to him. Once more he studied the face of the young Edward Canton. The physical resemblance was remarkable. Though Mr. Canton wore a bright smile, without a doubt due to the end of his school years, he would change his smile to a playful scowl before smiling once more. It was the scowl that reminded Severus so much of himself. He rarely smiled. There was very little in his past that brought him any joy. Even his life post-Voldemort warranted very few smiles. The jovial lad of eighteen who had the world at his feet and his future full of possibilities was who Severus should have been. The young man made him feel sadder and lonelier then he had ever allowed himself to feel.

"Emotions are weaknesses."

He remembered his father's words all too well.

"Emotions are for weak Muggles and Mudbloods… and for women," the elder Snape had said to his son on more than one occasion. "Are you any of those things?!" 

"No," he always managed to squeak out despite the fact that his greatest fear was not of evil wizards, werewolves or those terrifying Muggle airplanes that flew too close to his family's estate. No, his greatest fear was his own father.

"Of course you aren't," his father would always reply. "You are a Snape. We do not show or feel any emotion. Why is that, son?"

"Because your enemies are always looking for weaknesses. They will use emotion as a weapon against us. Emotions can get us killed."

That lesson, Salanzo Snape's favorite, had been passed on to his son at the tender age of five. More lessons would follow. More reminders of how a Snape was to conduct themselves. Severus learned to be passive, cool and emotionless at a young age. It had taken much longer for his sister to learn what was expected. He could still remember her screams for mercy from a father who knew not the meaning of the word.

His thoughts turned briefly from the mystical parchment to thoughts of his beloved sister Senga. He had not thought of her in many years. She was three years younger than he. As children they were very close. He was her elder brother and protector. Unfortunately their father was the one he most often had to protect her from. After seven years as a mediocre Hogwarts' student, a fact she was rarely allowed to forget, Senga left the British wizarding world. Almost twenty years had passed since he saw or heard a word from his beautiful sister. An acquaintance once informed him that he had seen her in the faraway islands of Vanuatu studying the ancient magics of the people. He had a feeling she would only return when their sainted father finally died. Seeing as how he was only seventy, middle-aged in wizarding terms, and he had always been in the best of health, Salanzo Snape was not going anywhere for a long time.

Determined to put such depressing thoughts from his mind, Severus examined the parchment for what could easily have been the hundredth time. He thought that looking at it enough times would give him the answers he was looking for.

"What the..?"

His eyes grew larger as he looked at the source of the mystery. The script that had once written out the name of Edward Canton and the year that his life was tragically cut short began to dissolve. He flipped the sheet over to be certain he was not simply looking at the wrong side. As he began to turn the page his attention was caught by a series of lines bleeding onto the page. Little by little the lines began to form what he knew to be…

"A map," he studied it closely.

The parchment had slowly become a map of Hogwarts, each corridor and classroom easily distinguished. He knew the contents of the castle better than most of the staff and all but a few of the students. Somehow Harry Potter always seemed to get himself out of trouble when he needed to. Surely he was aware of the myriad of secret passages and doorways. He certainly had managed to find the Chamber of Secrets when all who searched for it before did so in vain. Yes, Harry Potter and those dratted Weasley twins surely knew the school as well as he did. There was very little about the map that he was not already aware of.

It was only as the map became its complete form that he noticed anything truly remarkable. A tiny dot in the topmost left corner began to blink slightly. Severus had to lean into the parchment, the tip of his nose brushing the sheet, to see what the map wanted him to see.

"Fifth floor, Muggle Studies…" he read the minute script aloud.

Severus rose from his seat and pushed the chair a little too hard under the table. The noise sounded strange in the otherwise silent room. With the new map of Hogwarts in one hand and his wand in the other, he banished the issues of the _Daily Prophet _to their respective places on the shelves. The corridors were as black and quiet when he left the library as they had been before he entered. Hours would pass before the sun would rise and life would seep back into the castle walls. Thankfully classes were not held on Saturday. He would be able to sleep as late and as long as he liked. Provided of course that this business with Hermione Granger and Albus' insistence that he be there when she awoke was all cleared up.

He walked up the moving staircases to the fifth floor. Rarely he found himself anywhere near the Muggle Studies classroom. He, not at all surprisingly, found himself to be more comfortable in the dungeons. There were few students who were not down there because they had to be. The corridors were much quieter. In any other part of the school he found himself keeping himself from continually hexing the students. They tended to get on his nerves if exposed to them for too long. Perhaps his father was right. Education was not the best line of work for a wizard of his temperament.

"Enough thoughts of that man," he scolded himself. He was on a mission to solve this mystery. It was, perhaps a blessing that he had something interesting to occupy his time instead of lolling around the hospital ward.

As Severus got closer to the Muggle Studies floor the map began to zoom into the destination. Instead of a tiny dot the size of a pin prick the blink had become the size of a bronze knut. He stepped off the staircase to the fifth floor. There were only three doors in the wing he was in. Each of them was on the right side of the floor entrance. The blinking dot indicated an area to his left. There were no doors there or any bookcase either. He was not entirely sure what he was looking for, but as he stood in front of the wall where the dot blinked, a small space drew itself on the map. Beside the dot a single word appeared.

"Celo," he read.

The moment he spoke the word a small door opened in the otherwise blank wall. Taking his wand out of his robe pocket, ever ready for danger, he stepped inside. Immediately the door shut behind him. A row of torches lined the wall. With a single muttered spell they all came to light.

There was nothing special about the small room Severus found himself in. Nothing special except for the fact that it was hidden. Two chairs and a small stove for warmth were the only pieces of furniture within. There was no window or an obvious means of exit other than the door he had just come through. He looked once more at the parchment for any hint of what he was looking for. A secret room in a castle as large and as old as Hogwarts was not exactly something that created a lot of interest. It was what was or could possibly be found within the secret room that mattered.

_Look_… the parchment read. All hints of a map disappeared. _East wall, third stone from the left. _

Knowing better than to ask questions, Severus did as… he could not believe what he was doing and would be certain that few if any ever found out about his late-night exploration of the castle. Pushing his embarrassment aside Severus found the east wall and looked to the third stone. Simply looking at it he saw nothing extraordinary about it. Feeling even more ridiculous than he already felt he put his hand out to touch the stone. It was almost as if the stone was never there… it disappeared as soon as he brushed up against it.

Behind the false stone was a book… a book? He could not believe that all of this trouble was had for a book. Reluctantly he took the book from its hiding place. The cover was extremely old. It fell off as soon as he lifted it. He reached for it to see what he was holding, but the writing was too faded to read. After briefly flipping through a few pages he deduced that it was simply an old spell book. Several of the spells written in the page were out of date. Easier and more effective spells had long since been discovered.

"Great," he slammed the book shut with a deep sigh of frustration. "All of that for a useless old spell book hidden away in a dusty room."

As he moved to throw the book back in its hiding place something fell out of its pages. He leaned down to retrieve the fallen item.

"What?"

He could not believe what he was seeing. It was an old picture. Two young teenagers smiled and waved. One was without a doubt Edward Canton. He was recognized from the _Daily Prophet_ photo. The other teenager in the picture was a young woman. Severus had to look closely to believe what he was seeing. The young woman looked exactly like Miss Hermione Granger. This was making no sense whatsoever to him. He believed it all to be some sort of joke.

"This is not the least bit amusing," he said sharply to the empty room.

There was another photo between the pages of the old spell book. It was a larger picture of the young woman who looked so much like Miss Granger. She was smiling and blowing kisses to the camera. Severus found himself feeling very uncomfortable… almost like he was intruding on something he should not be. He turned the photo over.

_ Mariah Dumbledore _

_ June 1945 _

"Dumbledore?"

He stuffed both of the photos between the pages of the book and immediately headed to where he entered before. Without even saying the password the door reappeared. Once out in the Muggle Studies corridor he headed straight for the staircases. He had a few questions for Professor Albus Dumbledore and nothing was going to prevent him from getting the answers he wanted. 

_A/N: My apologies once more for taking as long as I did to get the chapter out. Life certainly has a way of getting in the way of fantasy writing. :) I hope you enjoy this despite the long wait. Thanks to all who reviewed! (Only a couple more chapters left!)_


	20. Partially Answered Questions

Chapter Twenty

"I wish to speak with you, Headmaster," Severus announced to the old wizard milling about outside the hospital ward.

His tone was intense and full or urgency. Albus knew he was not going to get away until the young wizard's suspicions and concerns were explained away.

"Please have a seat, Severus," Albus lowered himself on a stone bench and motioned for his colleague to sit beside him… much like he had young Harry Potter do earlier that evening. Or was it morning? How the hours were blending together.

Severus did not sit next to Professor Dumbledore. He found himself to be too frustrated and tired to comply so easily with the demands of the elder. Instead he stood before Albus, his hands holding the book and pictures behind his back.

"Who is Mariah Dumbledore?"

Albus' countenance went through a series of expressions within a few short seconds. Astonishment, confusion, anger, intense joy and even relief found their way into his emotions. It had been years since he heard the name of his favorite niece. So much had happened in the years since he saw her charming, smiling face that he often had to remind himself that he had not dreamed her up, that she had once been a huge part of his life. Thinking of her brought tears to his eyes and he left them to drop from his eyes, unashamed for them to be seen by his young protégé.

"She was my niece," he answered in a tiny, but strong whisper. "She died many, many years ago… right about the time I ran off to fight Grindelwald. I never got a chance to see her again."

"I… uh, I am very sorry," Severus replied, obviously uncomfortable with the show of emotions on the part of the Headmaster. Albus Dumbledore, while always eccentric and in Severus' opinion, annoying, had never left himself so open and vulnerable to the staff, even those he considered his friends.

"Quite all right, Severus," Albus finally replied after a couple of intense, silent minutes. He pulled a simple, the only simple thing he on, white handkerchief from the pocket of his robes to wipe away his tears. "She was an incredible young woman who would have had an amazing and prosperous future. But, sadly life in uncertain and often unfair. I have seen and done unbelievable things in my long life, and Mariah hardly lived past her eighteenth birthday. A great injustice was done."

There was a renewed period of awkward silence between the two. Unused to displays of such raw emotion from anyone over the age of thirteen, Severus found himself at a loss for words to continue their conversation in the direction he hoped. Albus could sense the anxiety radiating from the potions professor. He quietly blew his nose into his handkerchief and looked up to face him.

"Why do you ask about Mariah?"

The question was blunt and Severus' response was equally as blunt. He thrust the picture of the young Mariah Dumbledore he found in the old spell book under Dumbledore's nose. The Headmaster, in turn, took it from his hand without a sound. At first glance at what he held, Albus let out a tiny gasp. His eyes still moist with tear lit up when he saw a smiling Mariah Dumbledore, looking ever so much like Hermione Granger, blow kisses and wave from the photo. New tears splashed down the proud uncle's cheeks.

"I have not seen a picture of her in years," he said, wiping his cheeks once more. "I found looking at her likeness too painful and sad."

"But…" Severus began.

"But what?"

"You must realize…" Oh, this sounded so strange to say when it should have been so easy!

"I must realize what, Severus?"

"If I did not know better I would say that the young woman in that photo was Hermione Granger!" He blurted it out before he could stop himself. Afterwards he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"Yes, I suppose you are right," Albus sighed. "Miss Granger is precisely the reason I put Mariah's picture away."

"Forgive me, Headmaster, but that does not make any sense."

"Perhaps the logic behind it does not make much sense to you or to anyone else, but it does to me," Albus explained. "The moment I first saw Miss Granger walk into the Great Hall on the evening of her sorting I could not believe my eyes. It felt as if it was 1938 and my niece Mariah was about to be sorted. I almost believed it was she until Minerva announced 'Granger, Hermione' and the young girl I took for my niece stepped forward…

"I found myself that night shut up in my personal quarters with a photo album of my nieces and nephews and perhaps a few too many stiff glasses of brandy. It was remarkable going over past memories of my family. My father had twelve sons over the course of his life by three separate wives. My mother was the first. Hogwarts sweethearts they were. I was a result of their union, as well as my brothers Aberforth, Alberic, and finally Angus. My father liked A names. It was with Angus that my mother passed away. Her body was too weak for so many sons. She was only twenty-six when she passed… so young. Fortunately, Angus survived to live a very long lige.

"But my father… Mother's death broke him. He was a very unhappy man for the rest of his days. Soon after Mother passed we, my three brothers and I were sent to live with out mother's family. Wonderful people they were. Strong Gryffindor ties if you had not already guessed. We were happy there, but our poor father. He sunk into a very deep depression… his heart was very much broken.

"When I was around twelve, six years after my mother died, my father remarried. He did not send for his first four sons… we reminded him too much of painful memories. This new woman was as different from our mother as I believe possible. Understandable, of course. She was ambitious and ruthless. The few occasions that I was around her I found myself disliking her immensely.

"Her six sons were just as bad. They were about as rotten as they come. Two, Auberon and Alwyn, died in Azkaban. Algernon disappeared when he was nineteen. The remaining three all had families… Averill and Arkell had the same kind of ruthless ambition their mother had. Their wives and children suffered. Only Ashton seemed to have a normal life, but eventually he died an alcoholic. The fate of their mother was also terrible. She was murdered. To this day the culprit has not been caught.

"Father married soon after. By this time his eldest seven were already out of school and working. His third wife was an intelligent, loving woman. It always surprised me that they ended up married. The youngest daughter of a poverty stricken Slytherin family, her father arranged the marriage out of hope for a better future for his own family. She had a son only a year after her marriage and leaving school herself. Father's sons, who were around her own age, treated her worse than I would treat a sick rat. She had one more son, Adeben, and then ran away. She left her children and possessions in my family home. No one has seen her since."

Severus felt once more very uncomfortable in the Headmaster's presence. In all the years he had known him as a student, teacher, and spy for the Order, Severus could count on one hand the number of times Albus had willingly spoken of his past or of his family. Professor Dumbledore was a man who kept his secrets and never spoke badly about others. He knew that Dumbledore was trusting him with an extraordinary amount of knowledge about the Dumbledore clan.

"I can tell by the way you look that you do not know why I am being so candid about my relatives," Albus said almost a second after Severus thought it.

"Yes, Headmaster, I was thinking just that. In all of the years that I have known you and worked for you, I have heard very little about your past. Perhaps I should not have questioned you about your niece."

"Believe me when I say I would not have even answered your question if I knew it was not important to you, Severus," Albus went on to explain. An expression of confusion that was becoming all too familiar to him flashed across Severus' face. It went unnoticed by the wizard who was seemingly aware of all that transpired within the castle walls. "Soon after my youngest brother Adeben was born, my father passed away. I had hoped to be for my youngest two brothers what my father could not. Their mother was also gone.

"Amias and I hardly know each other. He chose to live with his mother's family. Adeben, however, became almost like my own son. We were very close. Too close, I am afraid, for his grandfather. When Adeben was ten his maternal grandparents were awarded custody. As could be expected from a man like Bernard MacNair, any of his grandson's relatives he deemed unfit were kept out of his life. Naturally I was at the top of that list.

"After Adeben's twentieth birthday I received an invitation to his wedding. From then on we had frequent contact with the other. Years under the guardianship of the MacNairs changed him, but I could still see the young, innocent lad he once had been.

"I have sixty-seven nephews and nieces spread across the world, Severus. An extraordinary number if one stops to think on it. Many of them I have but a passing acquaintance with. My middle six brothers took the name of their mother's family following her death. Amias as well turned from Dumbledore to become a legal MacNair. I believe you are quite familiar with his son, Walden."

"Yes, of course," Severus hastily replied. "Although I was unaware that he bore any relation to you, Headmaster."

"I am not entirely sure that he is even aware of the relationship. But, before I lose my course completely, there were, and a few still are, several of my siblings' offspring I maintained a strong relationship with. Mariah, although I should never admit it was by far my favorite. She had such fire and spirit that reminded me of a young Adeben before his family went about corrupting him.

"Miss Granger, much to my surprise was every bit as much like Mariah was at her age. In Miss Granger I saw a light that was extinguished long ago. Seeing her every day in the Great Hall or in the corridors during the day and then seeing a smiling photo of Mariah at night became too traumatic. Right about the time Miss Granger was petrified by the basilisk her second year I put all reminders of Mariah away until the time I knew I was ready."

"What happened to Miss Dumbledore, may I ask?"

Albus paused before continuing. It had been so long since he spoke with anyone about that part of his past that he felt an influx of almost unbearable emotions.

"In her seventh year Mariah was offered a position in the Ministry of Magic in their potions department…"

Severus' eyebrow rose at this knowledge.

"Yes, very much like Miss Granger. And even more like her situation still."

He paused once more to take a deep breath and slowly exhale.

"Mariah needed a recommendation from her potions master. Never one to give something away without proof that one actually deserved it, Professor Grebe asked her to brew a difficult potion, but one she should be able to brew."

"There was an explosion?"

"Unfortunately, yes there was. For some of the longest hours of my life I waited for news that she was going to be all right. The explosion almost killed her. She was unconscious for an unbearable amount of time."

"Is that how she died?" Severus asked in little above a whisper. If Mariah Dumbledore's situation was so similar to Hermione's… and Mariah never awoke…

"She eventually woke up. It seemed as if she would be all right and would be as she had been, but…"

"But what?"

"I left the next morning to fight Grindelwald for the last time. In the back of my mind was a niggling fear that something terrible would happen if I left. Of course there was no doubt that terrible things would happen if I did not leave. Naturally I chose to go where I knew danger would be.

"But even as I ventured towards Grindelwald I felt myself wanting to go back to Hogwarts. Poppy had assured me that although Mariah had a long road to complete recovery before her, she would be all right enough for me not to worry. As it was , when I returned to the castle following the battle I was faced with the tragic news that Mariah had passed away in her sleep only a short time after I left."

"Could Poppy determine what caused your niece to… to pass on?"

"I am afraid that that mystery went with Mariah to her grave. The belief is that her body simply gave out. She was in a horrific accident."

Severus could feel the second photo in his hand concealed behind his back.

"And Edward Canton?"

Dumbledore's astonished eyes shot up to meet Severus'.

"How do you…?" Albus, the great Albus Dumbledore stuttered.

Once more Severus allowed a photo to be his answer. He thrust the second photo into Albus' shaking hand, but kept the old spell book still behind his back.

"Edward was lost in the fight against Grindelwald," Albus replied, his eyes filling with tears once more. "I tried to keep an eye out for his safety, but failed. At one point during the final minutes of the battle he disappeared. No one saw him for months. Finally it was simply a broken body they found. The only positive I found to come out of it all is the fact that neither Edward nor Mariah were aware the other was dead."

"Mr. Canton was important to your niece?"

"Very," he said with a hint of a smile. "They had hoped to be married after they left school."

"I see."

There was a heavy silence between the two. Albus continued to stare wistfully at the photos. Severus clutched the spell book in his hand tighter. He wanted to continue the conversation. There were a few questions that had yet to be answered. One, it seemed, was so apparent he was amazed Albus had said nothing of it.

"Headmaster…" He cleared his throat. "Surely it has come to your attention that Mr. Canton looks a terrible bit like…"

"Yes, I know, Severus," Albus stopped him. "You have lived twice as long as Edward did, but the resemblance is unmistakable."

"Perhaps you can explain how this could be?"

"Not entirely, no, Severus. This all could be a remarkable coincidence or it all could have been planned."

"Planned, sir?"

"It is one thing for a past event to play itself out once more in the future. That happens often enough. We study history to learn from past mistakes so the past does not repeat itself. Everything, from the actions to the characters are the same now as they were over fifty years ago. Someone planned this. They planned that you would be you and that Miss Granger would enter your life. They planned the explosion. All of this, it seems was planned."

"Planned by whom?! And how?!" Severus' voice rose. "But most importantly, why?!"

"All very excellent questions, Severus. I fear that I do not have any solid answers… only speculations."

This news did nothing to settle Severus' nerves. He turned sharply from Albus to pace the corridor. His mind always worked better when he was moving. As he shifted, the old, battered spell book caught the eye of the Headmaster.

"Severus… what is that you hold in your hand?"

The professor ceased his pacing. He lifted the book to look at its cover.

"Just a worthless old spell book I found by the Muggle Studies classroom. It contained the two photographs you now hold in your hand within its pages."

"How did you find it?" Albus' voice was shaking.

Severus, at once grateful to share the story of his evening's adventures, spared no detail. He told his mentor everything he saw, did or heard. When his chronicle was finished, Albus once again motioned for the young professor to join him on the stone bench. This time, Severus complied.

"This worthless old spell book may very well hold the answers to all of our questions. I see I will just have to start at the beginning."

Hermione watched the scene before her with astonishment and horror. How could a man who claimed to love his daughter take her life? Adeben Dumbledore was a man that Hermione hoped to never understand. Understanding often gave way to sympathy or forgiveness. Neither of those she wished to bestow on the younger brother of a man she admired more than any other. How could a man do this? How could anyone look into the face of their own child and then end their existence? The thoughts that plagued her mind were difficult to bear.

Once Adeben Dumbledore was certain that his daughter was indeed dead, he removed the hospital pillow from his daughter Mariah's face. She was a color that Hermione had only seen a couple of times prior; each time the result of one of Voldemort's plans.

"That is over and done," Adeben muttered to himself.

It was in his best interest that Hermione did not have the power to hurt him in her current state. She wished harder than she had ever wished that there was a way she could have made him sorry he ever hurt Mariah. With a light kiss on the forehead of his dead daughter that made Hermione even more furious, Adeben Dumbledore quickly exited the hospital ward. Very shortly after he was gone Madam Pomfrey came out of her office to check on the status of her patient.

"Oh no!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed. She began to bustle around the ward, but her actions provided no difference. Her patient was already gone.

Hermione sat down on a bed, closed her eyes and cried for what felt like the hundredth time. Her moment ended almost as soon as it began. The quiet hospital ward exploded unexpectedly with the sounds of students bustling about the castle. In the time that she had her eyes closed, Hermione moved from the infirmary to the Entrance Hall of the castle. Students were everywhere. On any given school day, the corridors were overrun with the noisy young men and women trying to get to class.

She scanned the faces in the crowd, but did not see a single familiar one. It was amazing, she noticed, how similar students rushing about the castle looked from one era to another. She could almost allow herself to believe that this was a normal school day and that nothing unusual had happened. That is, of course, until she saw herself, or at least Miss Dumbledore who looked exactly like her, emerge from the stairs that led to the dungeons. A number of her fellow Slytherins, laughing and speaking animatedly to each other surrounded her.

"My last potions lesson… for the rest of my life… sweet freedom," a young blond girl joked.

The others laughed at her, but it was obvious that Mariah's thoughts were directed elsewhere. She stopped in her tracks to pull her oversized bag in front of her. Reaching into it she pulled out a sheet of parchment. Hermione moved closer to her to see what was so special about what Mariah held in her hand.

_Meet me… you know where._ The five words scribbled themselves across the parchment. She was reminded of Harry's Marauders' Map. Surely this was something similar.

"Hey, umm… I forgot I have… I have to do something," Mariah said to her friends. She seemed a littler nervous around them. Whatever the message was about, she did not seem to want her friends to know anything about it.

"You sure, Mariah?" the blond girl asked.

"Yeah… I'll meet up with you later in Charms."

Mariah rushed off to the moving staircase with Hermione closely in tow. She followed her up to the Muggle Studies corridor. Strange place to meet anyone to be sure… and there was no one waiting up there. Mariah moved to a blank wall and looked around the area for anyone approaching. When it was obvious that the coast was clear, she whispered to the wall.

"Celo."

A small door opened up in the blank wall. Checking once more to be sure she was alone, Mariah ducked her head in and disappeared within the wall. Hurrying to make it in before the door closed, Hermione rushed in behind her. There was nothing special about the small, hidden room she found herself in. It was rather small and dirty. A strange smell permeated the space, but that was usually to be expected in an old castle. Waiting in a small chair by a stove, a dark-haired young man sat.

"I wondered how long it would take you to check the parchment," he said aloud without turning to face Mariah.

"Have you been waiting long?"

"No, but I was hoping you would not take as long as you did last week."

"How many times do I have to apologize for that?" Mariah teased. "Professor Grebe held me after class. He made it almost impossible for me to finally get away."

The young man was undeniably Edward Canton. Seeing Mariah emerge from the dungeons earlier had taken Hermione aback. She had just only moments before witnessed her murder. It was strange and disconcerting to see her alive once more. Obviously she had gone further in the past to learn something she did not know before.

"I received a letter from the Auror Department this morning at breakfast," Edward announced, taking the hand of the woman he loved.

"You did? What did it say?"

"I have been accepted. I start training next month."

Mariah's pleasure over the news was apparent. She let out a squeal of excitement and kissed Edward.

"I am so proud of you!" She kissed him again.

"Have you heard yet?" he asked, still blushing from the affection.

"I only have to get a recommendation from Professor Grebe before I can start."

"And now I must tell you how proud of you I am." He kissed her on the forehead.

Mariah withdrew from her lover's embrace to dig within her bag once again. Pulling out an old spell book she thrust it into Edward's hands.

"I found it," she announced quietly. "It took me a while, but I said I would find it."

"What did you find?" he asked as he began to examine the book.

"The _Infinitas Infinitio_ spell… I have been looking for it since you… since you asked me to marry you."

"The eternity spell?" he asked quietly. "I thought that was lost long ago."

"You are familiar with it?"

"Not really. I have only heard mention of it. But where did you find it?"

"I tried everywhere I could think of: the library, Flourish and Blotts, a pretty scary little shop in Knockturn Alley, my father's home library, my eldest brother's… finally after an unexpected visit to my great-grandfather's estate I found it."

"Most of these spells are worthless. No one has used the _Vereor_ spell for at least a hundred years."

"I think that is why my great-grandfather saw nothing wrong with allowing me to borrow the book. I told him that I needed it for a seventh year school project. He owled it to me yesterday morning."

"But Mariah… most of these spells are extremely dangerous. These are some very strong dark spells. What could you possibly want from it?"

Hermione tried to remember the _Infinitas Infinitio_ spell from her extensive reading. Several different spells with similar titles popped into her head, but none of them were exactly what Mariah called it.

"I love you, Edward," she blurted out in what seemed an awkward place in the conversation.

"I love you too, but I do not see what that has to do with these spells."

"I am afraid that no matter what we do or what we say, someone will try to keep us apart. Already my father has been speaking to me of marriage to one of those horrid Malfoys. I do not want that."

"Neither do I." Edward placed his arm around her beloved.

"This spell is supposed to move Heaven and Earth to keep us together. I read of a couple that used it a few hundred years ago. The man had to leave to fight a battle on the seas. When he was returning home a storm crashed his ship onto an abandoned island. For a hundred years he was able to stay alive to finally make it home. Their essences were tied to the other. He was allowed to stay alive in such dreadful conditions because she was alive and waiting for him."

"I'm sorry, but I don't see how this has anything to do with us."

"This spell will link our hearts together…"

"We already know that we love each other. Is that not enough?"

"It is more than just that. We bind our hearts together forever. No matter what may happen to one of us, the other will be able to find them."

"Are you afraid that I will be swept away at sea?" he teased.

"No, but I am serious. I could not bear to lose you."

"Nor could I, but I am still not sure that this is a good idea. We do not know that much about the spell."

"I have been studying it for a long time now. Reading about every instance I could find where it was performed. We need to do this."

It was obvious before he did that Edward was going to acquiesce to his love's wishes. When he agreed, Hermione could not help but feel that this was not the best idea that they had. Spells, especially old, dark ones always had some kind of consequence.

"Give me your wand," Mariah asked as she extended hers to Edward. He reluctantly exchanged wands. Taking a small knife from her pocket Mariah cut both her hand and Edward's.

"Blood magic, Mariah?" He was obvious unnerved. "You never said blood was involved."

"Please, Edward. I know what is going to happen. This is perfectly all right."

He gave in again. Following a short, but complex ritual where they mixed the blood on their hands, pointed the other's wand at their heart and long chants, they were finished. It was difficult for an onlooker to tell that anything had changed, but the ones involved were visibly disturbed.

"Mariah…"

"I feel different, don't you?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's… it's… I don't know how to explain it. What does this do again?"

"If I lose you or if you lose me, we can do just about anything to find the other." 

_A/N: Almost finished! I hope that was not too complicated and confusing. If it did not make sense, it will in the next chapter. :)_


	21. Broken Enchantment

Chapter Twenty-One

_"If I lose you or if you lose me, we can do just about anything to find the other." _

The words hung in the cool air of the castle like a spider's web, bouncing off the stone walls in tiny echoes. The words still rung in Hermione's ears. She stood in the secret room staring at the two young lovers who quite possibly had just done the dimmest thing they could possibly have done. Dark magic, as has been proved countless times over the years is not something to be trifled with. There is always repercussions; a balance of light and dark, goodness and evil.

Slowly the two figures, the memories of Edward Canton and Mariah Dumbledore, began to dissolve and disappear from the secret room. Hermione found herself completely alone. There was a small chair in the corner that looked as if it was on its last leg, as clichéd as it sounds. If there was somewhere she needed to be, Hermione was unaware. She gingerly lowered herself onto the chair and sighed. An overabundance of thoughts whirled through her head.

"I did not read enough about the spell before I performed it," a familiar voice broke through Hermione's thoughts.

Jumping, not expecting to find herself to be hearing the voice of another, Hermione turned. To her left there stood a transparent form… Mariah Dumbledore. The young woman, obviously a ghost or specter or some kind, surveyed the room. In her eyes, Hermione saw a look of sadness and longing that she had never seen in another's. Miss Dumbledore was perhaps the saddest form Miss Granger had ever seen. Mariah searched the room, a yearning gaze for what had once been.

"M… Mariah?" Hermione stuttered, unsure if she could actually trust her eyes.

The ghost of Miss Dumbledore deliberately twirled to give her counterpart a half smile. This action did nothing for the sadness in her eyes. If anything, it only enhanced the emotion.

"Not quite in the flesh," Mariah answered, "But then again, neither are you."

"Wha… wha… I mean, I don't quite…" Hermione had difficulty forming her thoughts and questions into audible, sensible words. She felt she was going to burst. There were a hundred questions to ask, a hundred different facts she wanted to know.

"It is all a bit overwhelming, is it not?" the ghost smiled again. Her smile was as cold as the room they were huddled in. It was as if Mariah was finding irony in the situation that Hermione could not.

"Is this all part of the same dream? Are you figment of my imagination?"

Mariah laughed a tiny squeak of a laugh. It was very unlike Hermione's, a surprising sound from her body.

"I am surprised with you, Hermione," the smile this time was warmer. "You normally have all of the answers."

"How do you…?"

"I know a lot about you," Mariah admitted.

Hermione rose from her seat in one swift, frightened moment.

"Have you been…?"

"I have been watching you from the moment you entered this castle."

It was obvious that Hermione was discomforted with this admission. She involuntarily pulled her arms around her body, an obvious act of someone who has felt their privacy, and their person, has been violated.

"You've been watching me?" Her voice sounded hollow, almost as if she was not really saying the words herself.

"I like to check in on you to see how you are doing."

"Why?"

"Of course I expected you about twenty years earlier." She ignored Hermione's question.

"Why are you so interested in my life?"

Mariah smiled her cold smile again.

"Besides the tiny detail of you having my face, you are a significant part of any future I might have."

"I do not understand…"

"You were supposed to be here twenty years ago. I waited for you."

"When Professor Snape arrived?"

"It seemed only naturally that you would both arrive at the same time. After all, Edward and I were in the same year."

Hermione fidgeted nervously under the cool gaze of the specter. This was, after all, not an experience that one experiences every day. She was accustomed to seeing the House ghosts, Nearly Headless Nick, The Bloody Baron, the Fat Friar, and any of the other dozens of ghosts that for lack of a better term, lived within the walls of Hogwarts Castle. She was even accustomed to the antics of the resident poltergeist. Being in the presence of a young woman who died decades earlier and who also shared her face, made Hermione far from at ease.

"After awhile I began to wonder if you would ever come. Especially after Severus left school," she paused. "The day you were sorted I did not even go to the ceremony. Too many years of being disappointed."

Hermione tried as hard as she could to recall any time that she had seen this ghost who looked so much like her. If Mariah claimed to have been keeping tabs on both her and Professor Snape, it seemed only natural that their paths would cross eventually. As it was, she was positive that she had never laid eyes on Mariah.

"Why have I never seen you? I have seen all of the ghosts."

Mariah's cool gaze became a piercing stare. The question that Hermione posed was obviously not one she wanted to hear.

"I am not technically a ghost."

"What? But you… died, and now… you're still here."

Mariah sighed a loud, dramatic sigh.

"A side effect, I am afraid, from a foolish action of my past."

"The spell?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

The young woman did not go any further in her explanation. Hermione waited impatiently for her to elaborate. There was immense melancholy on the already cheerless face of Miss Dumbledore. Haunting memories, thoughts of what might have been, or perhaps, what should have been raced through her mind. There was much to regret. Her eagerness and naiveté changed not only her life, but also her love's life irrevocably.

"I was so consumed with the thought of being torn from my love that I was imprudent. I did not do enough research. For the past sixty years I have been locked in this castle and its grounds. No one can see me, not even the ghosts, but I can see everything," she was visibly troubled.

"If that is true…"

"Of course it is true!" She was upset. Her piercing words leapt from her mouth before she could halt them.

"But how can I see you?"

"You are not in the conscious world, that is my speculation," Mariah turned her eyes away from Hermione. "Having the ability to see everything, and yet being unable to be seen yourself is torture."

"I would imagine…"

"How could you possibly imagine?" Mariah snapped, quieting Hermione in a breath. "I have seen everything that has happened. I have gotten to know hundreds of students simply by watching them."

She whirled around to face Hermione once more. Her eyes were brimming with tears.

"I saw my uncle grieve for me. Can you imagine anything more frustrating? I was there. I could see him upset, and yet I could nothing. I could not even make him aware I was there."

"That must have been awful."

"You could not possibly have any idea."

From the moment that Mariah had made her presence known to her, Hermione had been thinking up additional questions she wanted to ask this presence. What exactly was this spell that she and Edward cast? Why could no one see her? If Mariah was there, why was Edward not there also? Every moment brought yet another question to her mind. But with each attack that Mariah brought upon the woman, each time she heard her say that there was no way she could understand the pain, Hermione found herself more and more frustrated.

"I have seen much and also been unable to have myself seen."

"What?"

"I have witnessed several events of the past, awful events. No one could see me. I knew what was happening. I tried to scream at them, tried to change everything, but no one could hear me. You say I do not understand what that feeling is like, but I am afraid I have to contradict you. I am very aware of how that feels."

Mariah laughed a mirthless laugh. No joy was in her eyes. Only coolness, anger, and a myriad of other emotions that were known only to her.

"Do you mean Henri and Camille? Isabella and James?" Mariah spat out.

"How do you…?"

"Or perhaps Gabriel and Clara?"

"How do you know about those?"

"Of course my personal favorite would have to be Antony and Cleopatra. Classic, tragic love story." Her words were bitter. They were mocking Hermione; there was no doubt about that at all. "Seeing those doomed love stories made you feel weak and powerless, did they, Hermione?"

"Y.. yes," she muttered.

"That is only a fraction of what I have had to deal with all of these years," Mariah's voice echoed through the tiny stone room. She seemed larger than life, unreal, and a bit frightening. Years of solitude had changed the once love struck teenager into a cold, daunting entity. "And they were not even real."

"Not real?" In complete contrast from the other girl, Hermione's voice was continually getting smaller. Her face fell at the words from Mariah's mouth.

"Only stories I read in books when I was a girl."

"Then how…?"

"How is it that you saw them, you felt you were actually there when it was all fiction?"

"Yes…" A tear dripped from Hermione's eye down her cheek.

"And how is it that each couple you saw bore such a stunning resemblance to yourself and your potions master?"

"Yes…" Tears followed the initial one freely down her face.

"One of my more brilliant plans, if I do say so myself."

Hermione could no longer stand to face Mariah. She turned away completely, hiding her crying eyes in her hands. She felt she had been crying forever. Each one of her eyes stung. Mariah did not even seem to care what her words and indeed, what her actions did to the other girl.

"Why did you do something like that to me?" Hermione asked in a strained whisper. "How could you make me go through something like that? What purpose is there in subjecting me to such sadness and pain?"

"It was not for you, Hermione, that I showed you. I did it all for me and for my welfare," she replied icily. There was no sign of remorse in her words or even on her face.

"Why would you do that?" Hermione screamed, shocking the other.

"Because… because I need your help."

"I am afraid that all makes very little sense to me, Headmaster," Severus sighed.

The two wizards were still seated on the stone bench in the corridor outside of the infirmary. For over half an hour Severus had listened with irritation to the old man's explanations of the odd occurrences of the previous few weeks.

"Then I shall explain it once more, Severus." Albus was exceedingly patient with the young professor, despite the other's frustration. "Three weeks ago I received a strange owl. It was addressed to 'Uncle'."

"But you have mentioned yourself that you have dozens of nieces and nephews. How could this have been so strange?"

"It was mostly a feeling that I received. One of those deep feelings that cannot be explained away. I hid the letter in my robes with the intent to read it later in the day. My curiosity soon got the better of me."

"What did the letter say?"

"Please be patient, Severus. It said only two words: Infinitas Infinitio. Are you aware of what spell that is?"

"Yes, the ancient binding spell! You mentioned it earlier. I have no idea what this has to do with myself or your niece or Mr. Canton or to Miss Granger!"

"It is indeed an ancient binding spell, a dangerous spell if done incorrectly. Three hundred years ago it was outlawed by the International Wizarding Confederation. All books that contained the spell were to be destroyed. Naturally a few copies remained. I remember my niece Mariah asking me about it one day."

"And this did not seem strange to you?"

"Mariah was asking questions almost as soon as she could speak. No doubt she had heard of the spell in passing or in some old book and she was curious. I knew very little about the spell myself when she asked. All I could do was simply point her in the right direction to books in the library that could explain it in more depth. In her last year at Hogwarts I found this book in her possession. She said she found the book in her great-grandfather MacNair's extensive library. She also assured me that she had it for educational purposes only."

"Did you believe her?"

"You unfortunately never knew my niece," Albus smiled at the thought. "She was extremely persuasive. Although I am loathe admitting it, I knew very little about the spell itself. I did not know what it did."

"What does it do?"

"When I received the owl with the name of the spell I grew curious. It had been almost sixty years since I had even thought of it. For days I read every book I could find about Infinitas Infinitio. When two people are in love and they feel that there are obstacles to having a future together, they could perform this spell. They mixed their blood on the eve of a new moon with a number of other ingredients one could easily find in the potions lab. If they were killed or kept apart from the other, they would find each other later."

"Some sort of tracking spell?"

"Not exactly. If they were met with tragedy, then their essence would remain on this plane of existence until they could be together in the future."

"As ghosts or some other entity?"

"No…" Albus hesitated before continuing further. "Until their physical bodies were reincarnated and they… uh, repeated the actions."

No sound was audible in the corridor. Severus could not believe what the headmaster was saying. The first time he explained his part in the events of the last day, Albus had never gone on to explain what the actual spell contained.

"Miss Granger and I… in order to fulfill this past spell, have to fall in love?" He was saying the words to himself more than he was saying them to the headmaster.

"I am not entirely sure about that, but I believe so. In one of the books I read there is an account that explains what happened in great detail. A young wizard fell in love with a noblewoman. Her father would not allow the two to be together. The young man performed the spell, mixing their blood and sealing it with a kiss, so that in time they would be together. As it happened the noblewoman was found to be with child. Her father had the wizard killed and then he in turn, had his daughter murdered.

"The essence of the young wizard remained. He was charged with the task of making certain that the two future incarnations of his love and himself, would meet and fall in love. The young man's essence was trapped. No one could see him, but he was able to perform magic to bring the two together. The first time the two incarnations were unsuccessful. For two hundred years the man waited until he finally succeeded."

Severus Snape did not want to hear any more fairy tales. This spell, this wretched spell sounded as if it came straight from a romance novel he had absconded from a third year girl who was caught reading in class. This was not a reality to him. The old man was insane to believe this rubbish.

"What does this have to do with any of us?" he demanded the elderly wizard.

"I felt that by reenacting what happened sixty years ago it would be possible to break the spell."

"You planned the explosion?" There was not a moment that Severus could ever remember being so angry. "You almost killed Hermione!"

"My niece cannot be in peace until the spell is broken."

"Damn the spell," Professor Snape hissed. "You could have killed Herm… Miss Granger. If she dies… if she dies, you will pay for it, Albus."

With a swift turn of his heels, Severus rushed to the door of the infirmary. His anger had never reached the point it was at that moment. Albus Dumbledore was no longer a wizard he respected. His fears, his feelings for his niece made him responsible for everything that happened to Hermione. She was still unconscious and pale. A gripping emotion of fear made Severus' stomach churn. If Hermione died he would never forgive the man who had given him a second chance at life.

"Why do you need my help?"

Hermione debated with herself for several minutes after Mariah's revelation. She was unsure if she was even willing to help the ghost who had been so angry, the ghost who was responsible for the awful events she had witnessed.

"Only you can break the spell. Only you can give me peace."

Mariah explained the Infinitas Infinitio enchantment to Hermione, just as Albus had done with Severus.

"I was imprudent. I thought that the moment we mixed our blood all of our problems would come to an end. If I had simply read more, done even more researching I would have learned that this would mean I would have no peace."

One question had been on Hermione's mind for the entire meeting. Granted there were about a million queries the young witch wanted answered, but one stayed with her.

"Where is Edward?" Hermione blurted out.

"I do not know." The brashness of Mariah's earlier tone was replaced by melancholy. "I thought that when he died, we would find each other. For years I did not know he died only days after I did. He was able to move on, but because of my foolish decision, I am stuck here."

For yet another moment, Hermione felt pity for Miss Dumbledore. Despite the false dreams full of pain and sadness that Mariah had inflicted on her in her weakened state, Hermione felt real sorrow for the young woman who had lost it all.

"How can I help you?"

"You and Severus have to repeat the process Edward and I did. That is the only way to break it."

"But," Hermione felt doubtful of this plan's effectiveness. "If I do this, won't I end up like you? Stuck between worlds after I die?"

"No, your actions will cancel out my foolish one. I can go on to the next world to be with Eddie. You and Severus can go on to live a normal, happy life."

Mariah touched Hermione's shoulder. Their surroundings instantly faded from the cold, drab hidden room to that of the darkened hospital ward.

"Look at him," Mariah whispered.

Severus was seated in a chair next to Hermione's sleeping form. He was still and silent, but his eyes never left her. In his face both women could see the fear and anxiety that he was feeling. That moment, one that was quiet and personal, revealed his worries and cares about Miss Granger.

"He has hardly left your side," Mariah announced. "He is terrified that you will never wake up, Hermione. Can you not see that?"

"He is simply watching for symptoms… to be certain that I am all right."

"If you believe that, then you are even more naïve than I once was. Can you help me?"

"I will certainly try."

Hardly a moment was lost before Hermione found herself back in her warm hospital bed. The aches and pains that had long since ceased to bother her were back with a full vengeance.

"Ugh," she groaned quietly.

Severus jumped from the chair.

"Miss Granger? Miss Granger, are you awake?"

"My head is pounding."

"That is to be expected."

"Professor Snape?" She tried to sit up, but he gently pushed her down. "Where is Professor Dumbledore?"

With a groan, Severus replied.

"Outside in the corridor."

Hermione needed to see the Headmaster. Before she had a chance to verbalize her desire, Albus Dumbledore swiftly came through the door.

"Miss Granger?"

"I saw her, Professor Dumbledore," she replied breathlessly.

"Saw who?" Severus asked harshly.

"Your niece Mariah."

Dumbledore's eyes filled with tears. He reached once more for his handkerchief to wipe them away.

"She is stuck in here, Professor," Hermione explained. "She is stuck inside Hogwarts."

"I was afraid of that," he said quietly.

There was a piece of parchment next to Hermione's bed. Wordlessly she reached for it and for a nearby quill. As quickly as she could despite the pain she was feeling, she wrote out a list. When she finished, she thrust the parchment into Severus' hands.

"Professor, you and I are the only ones who can help her. Please… please do this for her."

He did not need to be asked twice. If the truth were to be told, at that moment if Hermione Granger had asked him to steal Voldemort's essence from the Ministry of Magic alone and without a wand, he would have done it in a second. He rushed from the ward.

"Are you sure you know what you are doing, Miss Granger?" Professor Snape asked half an hour later when the three of them were once again gathered in the hospital ward.

"I believe so. Mariah told me what I needed to know."

A small cauldron was bubbling away on the nightstand next to the bed. Large flickers of blue flame leapt underneath it. With each ingredient that Hermione threw in the color of the potion changed and a loud hissing noise filled the room. She took a small knife and cut her hand. Dark red blood dripped down her palm and then onto her wrist.

"What are you doing, Miss Granger?" Severus asked with more than a little amount of concern.

She took his hand without warning and sliced it the same way she sliced her own. Their blood-streaked palms clasped around each other. Drops of their inter-mingled blood fell into the steaming cauldron with a hiss. A surge of unnatural energy ran through each of their bodies, leaving them both without air. Hermione was seated in the hospital bed, but she was close enough to pull her professor close to her. When their lips met for the first time, the energy coursing through their veins ceased.

"Mariah?" Albus could not believe what he was seeing.

The figure of Mariah Dumbledore came into full view. The sadness and anger that had once marred her features were gone, replaced instead with a light. She said nothing to her beloved uncle, the young woman who saved her or to the flustered and confused potions professor. She smiled at them silently before slowly fading into a pillar of light.

"Could you have that potion for me in the next hour, Hermione?" an elderly witch in the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries asked the young potions expert.

"I will get it to you in twenty minutes," Hermione promised with a smile.

"Even better."

This was her life now. Two years after leaving Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she was now a full-fledged expert. She loved her job. Every morning she woke with the sun excited about the prospect of what she was going to do that day. Every morning she had a new task to perform, a new potion to brew. The spontaneity of her career fascinated her.

Her arms were full of books, as they had always been. They were stacked way above her head. She had learned to trust that others in the department would move out of her way when they saw the book tower coming. It just happened that this particular day there was a stranger in the area.

"Excuse me. I am dreadfully sorry."

A strikingly handsome young wizard reached down to help her pick up all of her books. They had collided when he turned his eyes for a moment. He was unused to Hermione Granger and her penchant for heavy tomes.

"It was my fault entirely," she assured him. "I always carry too many books at once. My friends from school would tell you the same."

"Grant Haversham."

"Ahh, of course. I should have recognized you."

She rose from the floor and restacked the books in her arms once again. Only a few feet from her office she did not want to be distracted from finishing her task.

"And what do they call you?" Grant asked after her.

"Oh, uh, Hermione Granger."

"Well, Ms. Granger, perhaps I could make up for my clumsiness by taking you out for lunch this afternoon."

Hermione turned around to smile at Mr. Haversham. It was no secret to anyone that knew her or even about her that she had not dated anyone in years, not since she left Hogwarts. It was always assumed that she was subconscious of the cane she had to use to walk since the accident that almost took her life. Most believed that vanity or pride was what kept her out of the social world. No one, not even Harry or Ron knew that the real reason was because she left the only person she wanted to be with behind in Hogwarts Castle.

Grant Haversham was the gorgeous son of the newest Minster of Magic. Following a much needed retirement, Arthur Weasley appointed Grant's father to replace him. While thoughts of Severus Snape were never far from her mind, she had not seen him since the night they broke the spell in the hospital ward. He disappeared soon after Mariah did. While Hermione recovered in the ward, he hid in the dungeons, saying nothing to anyone. Now that Mr. Haversham was asking her to lunch, she felt for the first time in a long time, the strong inclination to agree.

"I would love to, Mr. Haversham," she replied.

"But she has already made plans for lunch today."

Hermione whipped around, dropping all of her books once more on the floor. Standing in the Department of Mysteries clad in his traditional black, buttoned up to the sky robes, was her surly former potions master. All at once she remembered that night with the utmost intensity. She remembered the emotions and energy that coursed through her body. And all at once she forgot Grant Haversham.

"Perhaps another time then." Mr. Haversham smiled at the two who had not taken their eyes from the other, and gracefully left the room.

"Professor…"

"Miss Granger…"

"I am no longer a school girl," she reminded him gently with a tiny hint of a smile on her face.

"That is something you do not have remind me of, Hermione."

They were silent for several moments. There was so much to say, so many questions that needed to be answered, so many explanations and excuses that had to be made. For several moments they simply stared at the other feeling that no words needed to be spoken at all.

"I am sorry it took me so long to come here," he said quietly, the first apology Hermione could remember hearing from him. "I wanted to forget, but I simply could not. When I read about Minister Haversham, I knew I had to come. I knew I could not let Grant Haversham marry you."

"What?" This was the first Hermione had ever heard mention of the time Severus dreamed the future. In time he would explain it all in detail to her, but it was still a great mystery at that moment.

"I will explain it all later," he promised. "Was I wrong to say you had plans?"

"Not at all," she smiled, reassuring him. "I would love to have lunch with you."

"Great then." He smiled an all-too uncommon grin. It was slight and hardly recognizable, but Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat.

"But first I have to finish a potion. Will you care to assist?"

The two of them entered her office, each knowing that their lives would never be as it once was.

The End

_A/N: There it is! Thank you to every one who has read this story and reviewed him. To have my work so accepted has been amazing. I apologize that it took so long to finish, but these few months have been ridiculously crazy in my personal life. I got married in September and just found out that our family is growing again!:) Please know that I was not withholding chapters or not writing because I wanted you all to suffer with the not knowing. :)_

_There will be no epilogue to this story. Sometimes the best stories are the ones with open endings. If you have enjoyed my work in this piece, please check out my other Severus piece "Of Troubled Minds and Stolen Pensieves". Now that Kairos is finished I will be able to devote more time to it. I have excellent ideas for it just waiting to burst out! _

_Thanks again and I hoped you enjoyed Kairos!_


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